DIALOGUES
by mgmerlin
Summary: Summer before sixth year. Harry has a few interesting discussions over the summer break before heading back to Hogwarts, discussions that will shape the fate of the entire world. Chapter 1: Albus Dumbledore decides to pay Harry a long overdue visit at Pri
1. WITH THE HEADMASTER

...With the Headmaster 

The Dursley family of Number 4 Privet Drive, Surrey, had always believed themselves to be the most normal family in the world, but when one of your number happens to be a wizard it doesn't exactly ring true. Although Harry Potter only stayed under their roof for a little over a month every year – he attended a school for witches and wizards up north the rest of the time - the Dursleys were still horrified at the possibility of the neighbours finding out the terrible secret of the freak under their care. Needless to say this is why they were far from pleased to see an aged, bespectacled man walk up their driveway early on a Saturday morning looking like he was wearing a Halloween costume four months too early, his long white beard billowing in the early breeze as freely as the dazzlingly bright blue and yellow robes he was wearing. Petunia Dursley in particular was terrified that the neighbours would see this strange madman skipping down the road so early in the morning – curtains were beginning to twitch when she answered the door.

"Good morning Mrs Dursley. How are-", but before he could finish, the horse-faced woman in question grabbed hold of his robes and pulled him with surprising strength through the door into the hallway. With a quick glance to check whether anyone had seen (_Oh! The Shame! The Shame!_) she slammed the door closed.

"Who is it Petunia?" her husband, Vernon, asked from the kitchen. His answer came soon enough as the strange old man swept calmly and serenely into the room.

"Good morning Mr Dursley. How are you today?" There was an awkward moment or two of silence. "Allow me to introduce myself," this peculiar fellow eventually said, "I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Vernon was incensed. His face had gradually contorted into one of shock and then fury, the colour of his blotched face transforming into that famous deep shade of purple in double-quick time. He was about to shout at the top of his voice, but the force of presence that this old wizard possessed stopped him in his tracks. In the end, when he spoke it was just above a whisper, but the fury in his voice remained. "How dare you enter my home uninvited, and...and...and dressed like _that_!"

"I do apologise," Albus Dumbledore replied as calm as can be. "However, I am in a bit of a rush. I do not mean to be rude, but I wonder if I could have a word with young Mr Potter."

"He's in his room," said Petunia before her husband could say anything he might have regretted.

"Is he still asleep?"

The two muggles exchanged knowing glances. "No. I... er...I don't think he's been... well... sleeping very well," stammered Petunia.

"Yes, that is quite understandable," Dumbledore replied solemnly.

Uncle Vernon found his voice again, although there wasn't a trace of compassion for his nephew as he spoke. "_Understandable?_" he hissed. "He's been screaming and shouting in his sleep at all hours! We can't get a wink of sleep because of whatever _your lot_ have done to him."

"I am very sorry to hear that Mr Dursley. Truly sorry. You will have to excuse me however. I must speak with your nephew." And with that said, Dumbledore swept out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"The door on your left," Aunt Petunia called hurriedly from the hallway. It was lucky she had too, because regardless of how brilliant and well respected he was by the magical community, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, was about to make a fairly large mistake considering his current circumstances and knock on the door of one Dudley Dursley, who at this moment was sleeping like a baby.

"Ah, yes. Thank you Mrs Dursley," the Headmaster replied, and then turned to Harry's room.

Harry Potter sprang up from his bed where he had been rereading an old Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook. He recognised that voice, but what the hell was it doing coming from the upstairs landing? He yanked the door open as quickly as humanly possible.

"Professor?" he asked in bewilderment.

Dumbledore lowered his outstretched hand – there was no longer any need to knock on the door – and smiled brightly. "Good morning Harry." While the young man struggled to string two words together he calmly asked, "May I come in?"

Harry stood motionless in the doorway for a moment, but when his brain finally kicked into some sort of gear he managed to utter a "Yeah. Sure," and moved aside to allow the old man to enter.

Dumbledore took a moment to take a look around Harry's tiny room. The bed lay along the wall to the right, the desk under the window. There was a cupboard to his right. Heaped in the left portion of the room and on the shelves along the left-hand wall lay all the forgotten presents and broken toys of Harry's cousin, Dudley, along with numerous pictures of the Dursley's son dotted around the room. What was missing was absolutely anything to suggest that this was the bedroom of the famous Harry Potter, except for a photo of the young man's parents, which would have been insignificant except that they were moving in it! Needless to say, the headmaster wasn't happy with what he saw.

A rickety, uncomfortable looking chair was offered to him and he sat down graciously, while Harry plopped back down onto the bed - the sounds of broken springs could plainly be heard as he did so.

Taking a closer look at his favourite student Dumbledore could clearly see the dishevelled signs of grief and sorrow: the tired, baggy eyes and the sagging shoulders of a young man trying to bear so much. Apart from that though, he noticed that Harry was looking a little healthier in body than when he had seen him last, surreptitiously watching him board the train at Hogsmeade. Considering Harry's prior appearances back at Hogwarts after living at Privet Drive this was perhaps a minor miracle. Then again, he had been quickly informed of Harry's new morning routine by Tonks and had heartily approved of it, just so long as he was protected at all times.

Before he finally spoke, Dumbledore drew his wand and placed a silencing charm around the room. "Well Harry, I suppose I never truly understood what you have to go through here," he said gravely when he was sure they could not be overheard, indicating with his hand that he was referring to the room in general.

Harry waved Dumbledore's comment away, knowing full well that the man in front of him was fully aware of what he had to endure. "It's better than the cupboard-under-the-stairs at least," he said simply.

An expression of surprise and then guilt passed quickly across the headmaster's face. "How long?" he asked tentatively.

"Let's just say the first night at Hogwarts was the first time I remember sleeping in a bed," Harry said, the bitterness and anger etched clearly upon every syllable all of a sudden.

Dumbledore nodded slowly. He had known that the Dursleys hadn't exactly gotten on with their nephew, but to make the boy sleep under the stairs for ten years! Disgraceful! It just made him respect the young man before him even more for having endured so much, and it made him even sorrier for having decided to allow it to happen. "I'm so sor-"

"Forget it!" Harry snapped, his tired eyes flaring instantly into life.

The silence that followed was unbearable for the both of them. Harry for his part was angry, no livid, that the so-called 'most powerful wizard in the world' even had the gall to sit in the very house (perhaps hellhole was a better description) he had condemned him to for ten years and attempt to apologise and act all sorry for doing it.

Dumbledore, however, was just a little startled at the sight before him, and he was rarely startled! After all, less than a month ago he had faced down the most evil wizard in history without batting an eyelid. In his office afterwards he had seen Harry's anger for the first time, but this was different. Then, Harry was distraught, he had lashed out his uncontrollable grief and anger, and Dumbledore's office had taken the brunt of his rage and awesome power. Now, grief was still evident, but his anger was now focused, controlled, and Dumbledore saw not only contempt, but also perhaps a little malice and hatred in those green eyes staring challengingly at him from across the room.

"Well, I... er... I received your letter yesterday Harry," Dumbledore faltered. It had been a long time since he had felt like this, but he quickly composed himself. "I can't say that I understand what you are going through, but I do think that your request is prudent in the circumstances."

If he was waiting for a response he wasn't going to get one. The loathing Harry felt towards him was still latent and bubbling; the green eyes that reminded everyone so much of Lily where intensely bright. Dumbledore could literally feel the immense magical energy coursing through, and emanating from Harry as he looked warily at him. It was, for lack of a better word, intoxicating. If Harry could be taught to discipline such power, there would be no doubt that Voldemort was doomed.

"Tea, Harry?" the old wizard asked quickly, and with a flick of his wand a cream teapot appeared alongside two matching cup and saucers in midair.

Harry blinked at the sudden question. He didn't know what it was, but he had felt like he was just about to burst like a balloon. For a moment he thought the snake within had resurfaced, but he then realised that the anger he felt towards his headmaster was all his own and that Voldemort had nothing to do with it. Dumbledore's unexpected request had deflated him a little though. His attention flicked to his headmaster's question and he gave the slightest of nods.

"I find that a small cup of tea in the morning can simply work wonders," Dumbleore said, a twinkle in his bright blue eyes once more as he poured. "Sugar?" Harry shook his head. "No? Well, I suppose that perhaps I have too much sugar in my life. Between endless cups of tea and all those lemon drops my teeth don't really stand a chance, do they?"

Harry couldn't help but smile. The tension that had existed only moments before was quickly swept aside as he said dryly, "I guess we all have some weaknesses we can't ignore sir."

"That's very true Harry," Dumbledore responded, handing over one of the cups. "Very true indeed." He paused for a moment while he poured his own drink. His actions were calm and collected, but inwardly he was still shaken at what he had just witnessed. Never in all his many years had he seen such power contained within someone so young. He had suspected for some time that it was there yes, but this was the first time he had seen it for himself in so focused a fashion. "Now about your request," he said eventually, "I would be more than happy to accompany you to Diagon Alley and help you choose the books you deem necessary from _Flourish & Blotts_."

"_You_ want to accompany _me_?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I would be more than happy to lend you a few books from my own extensive library of course," Dumbledore pressed on, "but they are fairly old and I am sure you would prefer to have your own brand new copies. Besides, I haven't walked down Diagon Alley for quite some time - the trip might do me some good."

Harry smiled at the Professor's cryptic response. Many regarded the Headmaster of Hogwarts an eccentric man, but Harry was beginning to know better; Dumbledore was a manipulator of people. He spoke in riddles and half-truths as consummately as a seasoned politician. Still, Harry had to give the old man his due; he more than likely found it distasteful to manipulate power and obfuscate the truth, but realised at the same time that such things were often necessary. Oh yes, Harry was beginning to wise up to the ways of the world and the utilitarian attitude that Albus Dumbledore appeared to have towards it! He suspected strongly that there was an ulterior motive for the headmaster personally accompanying him on his shopping trip.

"When?" Harry asked.

"Today, if you're not busy."

"Busy?" Dumbledore could also be extremely irritating sometimes with his aloofness. "Of course I'm not bloody busy!" Harry's anger was threatening to surface again: _'You know full well I'm not!' _he thought, but managed to avoid saying.

"Good," Dumbledore said, wisely ignoring his student's raised voice. "Drink up then."

"But its only half-past eight!" Harry protested, "The shops won't be open yet."

"They will be soon enough Harry. I am not a big fan of crowded streets, so if we're lucky it won't be too crowded when we arrive."

Harry shook his head in wonder. The attitude of Dumbledore was something to behold at times. Then again, he was undoubtedly a busy man and perhaps was running a tight schedule, but for some unknown reason was unprepared to say so. _'Hiding the truth again from me old man?' _Harry thought to himself.

"Actually Professor, I prefer it when it's really busy."

"And why is that Harry?"

"Because the busier it is, the more chance I have of blending in and going unnoticed. The busier the better as far as I'm concerned, sir."

Dumbledore smiled knowingly. "That's a very good point. Fame is indeed a fickle friend at times." Harry snorted into his cup of tea. "Yes I know, but it is one of the smartest things Gilderoy Lockhart ever told me... and yourself... and in fact, nearly everyone he meets!" Harry snorted a little louder. "It is nice to know that you learn from your mistakes Harry."

"What do you mean sir?" Harry asked, lowering his cup of tea.

"Well as I said during our previous meeting, it would have been better to have held the meeting about the DA last year in the Three Broomsticks rather the Hog's Head."

"Yes I know. That's what Sirius-" Harry stopped and lowered his head.

Dumbledore responded quickly. He leaned forward in his chair and raised Harry's chin with his left hand to look into those brilliant green eyes, shining with unshed tears. "Sirius was a very clever young man Harry. He knew more than most how to conceal himself among a crowd. He would be proud that you have learnt that from him so quickly." Dumbledore then leaned back into his chair. "But he wouldn't be too happy seeing you grieve so heavily for him. It _is_ an important part of the healing process, but you must never linger within its bleak walls for too long Harry. Such heartache can destroy the soul."

Harry nodded slowly, fighting desperately to keep his emotions in check. "Yes, well," he began, his shaky voice giving away the pain he still felt, "there's so much I have to learn, isn't there?" He looked up sharply into the face of Dumbledore, his eyes once more unblinkingly boring into the ones behind the half-moon spectacles. "_Quickly_!" He spat out the last word as sharply as a snake would sink its venom into its prey.

It was now the Professor's turn to nod slowly. "Which is why I am here, Harry. If you have finished your drink, it is time we were on our way." He stood up to go and with a flick of his wand the cups and teapot vanished.

"Sir?" Harry asked, still sitting on his bed.

"Yes, Harry?"

"There is one thing that bothers me. You said that you didn't want Voldemort to know... er... to know... well... your feelings towards me." Harry was on dangerous ground here, Dumbledore had plainly admitted he cared deeply for Harry in his office less than two weeks ago, but Harry could not forgive and forget so easily the horrors he had endured his entire life, horrors endured largely due to the mistakes and oversights the old man before him had made. "But if we're seen walking down Diagon Alley doesn't that... kind of... give the game away?"

"Perhaps." Dumbledore's expression suddenly became more serious once more as he sat back down again. "However, that no longer concerns me for two reasons. First, as you well know, this last year I was influenced too much by my fear of what could happen to you. As I said two weeks ago, I have grown to love you like you were family... perhaps even like my own son." Harry scowled slightly at this - he would not allow the Headmaster to employ pity and sorrow as a means of gaining back his trust. "But I have come to realise that those decisions, although made for your benefit, didn't really make you any safer and were made because the feelings you unknowingly engendered in my heart were clouding my judgement. Secondly, and more importantly, now you know the truth it is time to prepare you for the challenge you are faced with."

Harry lowered his head at this point; any thoughts of the Prophecy automatically pushed his shoulders down.

Dumbledore felt that now was a good time to address some issues that should have been dealt with in his office the last time they spoke. "You spoke in your letter of being neither old enough nor powerful enough to defeat Tom Riddle. I must say that you are mistaken on both accounts."

Harry's head jerked upwards. "You can't be serious Professor?"

"I have never been more serious Harry." That much was true - Harry had rarely seen the headmaster like this before. "You defeated Tom for the first time when you were barely a year old. Shouldn't that tell you that age is not a factor here?"

"But-"

"No buts Harry! As to your second point, the power that defeated Tom for the first time might have been due to your mother, but it was power that belonged to _you_nevertheless. Similarly, everything that has happened since should serve to underline the fact that you are becoming a very powerful wizard Harry." Dumbledore's thoughts quickly went back to the events of a few minutes ago. "Very powerful," he said slowly.

Harry blinked his eyes several times in bewilderment.

"You seem shocked that I admit that Harry, but think it through for a moment. Your parents were themselves two of the most gifted people I have ever had the pleasure to teach. You have undoubtedly inherited your indomitable nature, your strength of character and resolve, from them. In its self, as the son of Lily and James Potter you would unquestionably be a great wizard." Harry smiled thinly. "On top of this, you carry the scar that Tom unwillingly gave you, and along with that - as I have explained before - come perhaps even greater powers, powers that - to a large extent - remain untapped."

Harry grimaced. He didn't like the idea that there were more of Voldemort's powers within him, evil powers that he simply did not want to know about.

"I know that this is not exactly laying your mind at ease, but it must be said." Dumbledore paused momentarily. "When you faced Tom after the third task and duelled with him, you survived. Why?"

"Because I was lucky," Harry replied immediately.

"Yes... and no. You did not know that the wands would connect and it was that unknown factor that saved you. However, dozens of people have died at the personal hands of Tom Riddle, and many of them not because he was more powerful than them, but because they were afraid of him, because they did not even attempt to fight him off. You however, decided to follow in your father's footsteps and to go out fighting. As I have told you before it was your bravery and courage that saved your life that night.

"And then we come to the events of a few weeks ago." Dumbledore continued. "It was not your fault what eventually happened – never forget that – but look beyond this for a moment and what do you think I see?" Harry couldn't answer; it was taking all his strength and determination to stop himself from collapsing into a heap of gut-wrenching sobs. "I see a fifteen year old boy attempt to save his godfather from certain death without a single thought of his own safety. I see a young man risk his own life to save another. Do you think Tom Riddle would ever do something like that?"

Harry shook his head. "It didn't work though, did it?" he managed to utter, his voice choking with emotion. "Sirius died."

"But it _did_ work when you saved Ginny Weasley's life in the Chamber of Secrets." Dumbledore paused momentarily to let this fact sink in. "You are utterly selfless Harry," he continued. "Tom Riddle would never dream of doing the things you have done because he has no compassion, he has no love for others, while you are full of it. You allowed Peter Pettigrew to live for the same reason. Even though he was the man who betrayed your parents to Tom, you couldn't bring yourself to let him be killed. You realised instinctively that he wasn't the one ultimately to blame, that the one who deserves to suffer for it is Tom Riddle himself."

"It doesn't mean I can kill him though. I'm still not powerful enough."

"You will be when the time comes," was the simple response.

Dumbledore hesitated momentarily, obviously churning something over in his mind. "Harry, I don't think you fully understand the position you hold," he said eventually. "To society at large you are the 'boy-who-lived', the one who brought about the downfall of the most evil wizard in the world when just a year old." Harry was about to interrupt, but Dumbledore raised a hand to silence him. "When all hope seemed lost, when the end seemed near, when 'You-know-who' seemed utterly invincible, the man who was responsible for the deaths of hundreds – perhaps thousands - was defeated by a one-year-old child. I'm not saying this to boost your ego Harry; I am saying this so that you fully understand what you mean to people. You were a miracle."

"Then why the hell did they treat me like they did this year?" Harry roared. His eyes once more flashed brightly, and waves of energy were emanating from him, hitting Dumbledore with force.

Once more, the Headmaster of Hogwarts was struck dumb by the spectacle before him. Harry would definitely have to learn to control his temper; otherwise more than just mere objects would be broken in its wake!

"Because they did not want to believe the truth," Dumbledore finally responded. "Before you were born the wizarding world was a terrible place Harry. There was death and destruction around every corner. There was no escaping the fear and terror that '_Lord Voldemort'_ was causing. As such, the public simply did not want to believe that there was even the slightest of chances that we could return to such a time. It was better for them to believe a lie. Now, that the truth is known and accepted you must be able to accept who you are. The wizarding world assumes that you are one of the most powerful of our kind, and everything you have endured and succeeded in proves that their assumptions are far from false. Once again you will become the focus of so much hope. It is not just the burden of the Prophecy that you must carry now; it is the weight of expectation and belief that you bring to people that you must also shoulder."

Harry closed his eyes and shuddered. This was the last thing he wanted. He hated the attention, the looks that everyone gave him, the reverence they bestowed upon him. He didn't want any of it.

"I know that this is not what you want Harry, but I am afraid that once again you have no choice in the matter," Dumbledore explained. "You must accept it, and I know that you are strong enough to do it."

"Why?" Harry whispered, not daring to hear anything.

"The DA Harry," Dumbledore replied simply. "You took it upon yourself to teach other students the skills that you had been blessed... and cursed with. You stood out among the crowd and accepted for the first time that you are a leader of people. I knew then that you were ready for the challenge ahead, that you had become comfortable enough with whom you are to face the fate that I had held from you for too long. And when you decided to save Sirius five other students went with you, and they went because they believe in you, because they trust you with their lives. With the skills _you_ had taught them they managed to survive when outnumbered - almost two to one - by fully grown Death Eaters"

"But they almost died!" Harry managed to blurt out, his voice shaking with suppressed sobs.

"Let me finish Harry. You need to hear this. Lord Voldemort has his followers, but they are afraid of him, and it is this fear that keeps them bound to him, fear that he will kill them if they desert him. You also have your followers now Harry, but they did not go with you because they are afraid of you, afraid that you would kill them if they refused. No dear boy, those five students went with you to the Department of Mysteries because they love you Harry - each in their own way and not because you are the-boy-who-lived, but because you are you. Do you understand?"

Harry faltered for the longest of moments before softly bowing his head. "No matter how many follow me, I have to face him alone at the end," he said, looking at the floor.

"That is true, and that is why it is important to note the outcome of what happened in the Department of Mysteries. The five students who followed you all left with varying degrees of injuries. You however, left physically unharmed. Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

Harry closed his eyes and shuddered involuntarily. The guilt of being responsible for the injuries of Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna was something he hadn't fully thought about until the last few moments. Sirius' death had clouded everything else. Now however, the old man had given him something else to feel sorry for.

"Please do not dwell on your classmates' injuries Harry," Dumbledore said quickly, almost as if he was reading Harry's mind (something which he was certainly capable of doing if he wanted to). "They have all recovered and not one of them blames you for what happened. They put themselves in harm's way willingly, and believe me they would gladly do so again if you asked them to."

Harry thought for a moment. Would his friends risk their lives for him again? Would they die for him? He nodded his head slowly. "I know," he whispered.

Dumbledore smiled thinly. It was perhaps cruel to place these hard truths upon Harry so soon, but he seemed to be taking it quite well. He pondered on whether or not to ask his next question, but it had to be done. "Also Harry, the issue of Bellatrix Lestrange needs addressing." he said gravely.

At the mention of her name Harry's anger quickly resurfaced. "Why?" he scowled.

"Not only did she send Sirius through the veil, she also duelled with Alastor Moody, Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt – three very strong Aurors – and brushed all of them aside. She also deflected a particularly powerful curse of mine with relative ease. Yet you chased after her, and when I arrived, although Tom was about to kill you she herself had not harmed you. What happened?"

"Excuse me?" Harry was confused.

Dumbledore leaned forward slightly. "Harry, I have no idea what took place between Bellatrix and yourself before I arrived. I would dearly like to know."

"Well..." Harry was unsure what to tell. The truth would not go down well, but nothing less would do. "I chased her up into the lobby, and then she began taunting me. She was saying things in a babyish voice. She got me angry and I... er... I..."

"Yes Harry?"

"I jumped out from behind the statue where I was hiding and... well... I hit her with the Cruciatus."

Dumbledore lowered his head slightly, his blue eyes peering intently at the young man before him over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "And?"

"I'm sorry sir," was all Harry managed to say.

Dumbledore remained quiet for a moment or two before he asked slowly, "Did it work?"

"Not exactly. I mean it did hit her, and she did fall onto the ground in pain, but then that was it. She didn't writhe around in agony like she was supposed to. When she got back up she explained that righteous anger wouldn't fuel the Cruciatus properly, that I would have to really want to cause pain to make it work." When Dumbledore's expression didn't change Harry asked timidly, "You're not angry with me sir, are you?"

"You were..._are_ struggling under a great weight of expectation Harry. It is impossible for someone as young as you to not do things in such situations that you later regret. Yes you performed an unforgiveable curse. However, contrary to the name I do forgive you... this time."

"There won't be another, Professor."

"I'm glad to hear it. Sometimes fighting fire with fire is not a good thing. Anyway, what happened next?"

"Nothing much. I tried a Stunning spell. She blocked it. Her spells and curses were so fast sir - I could barely avoid them. She asked for the Prophecy and I told her it was smashed, and then when I felt _his _anger I told her he knew, I tauntedher like she'd taunted me, and she became frightened. That's when Voldemort appeared. You basically know the rest – he just said that I'd 'irked him too often' and went to kill me."

Dumbledore remained still and quiet for a moment before continuing. "What you have told me confirms everything I have said?"

"How?"

"First, you do possess extraordinary powers. You brought Bellatrix Lestrange to her knees, and although it took an Unforgiveable to do it - something which we will discuss further on at a later date – you did what Alastor, Tonks and Kingsley could not. Second, when you realised that her duelling abilities outmatched your own, you kept your head and probed her weakness."

"Weakness?"

"Yes. Every Death Eater's greatest weakness is their fear of Lord Voldemort. By taunting her as you did, you took advantage of that."

"But what about Voldemort? When he appeared I just froze. I didn't do anything. If you hadn't have appeared when you did I'd be dead."

"I know Harry. Don't worry about that. Once I have you prepared you will not freeze before him again. You will be ready to defeat him."

"Are _you_ going to train me?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Yes." As Harry smiled at his teacher's response Dumbledore raised his hand once more to stop him interrupting. "But you must tell no one. Although Tom will be expecting me to prepare you – he knows that you are his main threat - I would prefer it if this was strictly kept between you and I for now." Harry nodded in response. "I am an extremely busy man but it is more important that I train you to prevail against him than any of my other duties, and I am more than confident that you will."

Harry didn't know what to say, so he settled for a simple "Thank you sir."

"That is enough talk for now. After all," a smile appeared once more on Professor Dumbledore's face - the serious expression of a moment ago a mere memory, "I would like to miss the crowds in Diagon Alley."

"Of course sir," Harry responded softly.

They left as quickly and as soon as Harry was ready. He put on some clean clothes – old, dishevelled and still too large for him - and picked up his wand and vault key. Dumbledore gave explanations tersely to the Dursleys – he had not forgotten the start of his conversation with Harry that easily – then he lifted up a cup off the kitchen table, pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Portus." At the sight of the wand in open view both Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia recoiled to the far wall.

"Wh-what are y-you doing?" stammered Uncle Vernon.

Dumbledore ignored him. "Touch the cup Harry," he said.

"I hate Portkeys," Harry muttered. "Couldn't you teach me how to apparate?"

The old man smiled broadly. "Now that you mention it Mr Potter, I have obtained special permission from the Ministry of Magic – now that they are co-operating once more - to do just that, but it shall have to wait for another day."

He suddenly paused and turned to Harry's relatives who remained cowering as far away as possible. "One final thought Mr and Mrs Dursley," he said in the same terse manner, "In light of the current _unfavourable _circumstances in the wizarding world, I have obtained for your nephew an exemption from the restriction on the use of underage magic." Harry's jaw dropped in total shock, but Dumbledore was too busy gauging the Dursley's all too predictable and all too wanted response. "Although I am sure that you deserve _anything _this_ most powerful _of wizards would do to you," he said, patting Harry on the shoulder, "I am confident he is responsible enough to leave you unharmed. However, I wouldn't test his temperament if I were you. I did that last month and he destroyed my office! Good day to you," he added brightly. "Come on now Harry, touch the cup."

Harry took a wobbly step forward, still trying to get his mind around the fact he could now perform magic whenever and wherever he wanted, and gingerly placed his fingertip upon the smooth, round, ceramic surface. He immediately felt the dreaded pull from behind his navel and the whoosh of blurred light and colours, finally landing awkwardly in front of a brick wall. The only thing that stopped him from falling over was the strong vice-like grip of his headmaster. "Sorry," Harry muttered before righting himself. "Where are we?" he asked.

"We are, I believe, in the backyard of the Leaky Cauldron. Now if I could just remember the combination..." The old wizard tapped his wand upon several of the bricks before them, the wall magically moved to the side, and together they stepped through into Diagon Alley.

"Ah, it has truly been too long since I have been here. Too long indeed!" Dumbledore said, more to himself than Harry, although it had been nearly three years since Harry had been to Diagon Alley too.

Harry remained silent as they walked down the famous London street, but Dumbledore took his silence as an opportunity to say a few more words - quietly of course so as not to be overheard. "Now Harry, I think that it is vital that you learn Occlumency. I will take it upon myself to teach you over the summer. Professor Snape will have already covered the basics of meditation and different shielding techniques with you, so hopefully you will be well on your way to blocking off your mind from Tom - or indeed anyone - when you return to school in September."

"Meditation? Shielding techniques?" Harry was confused. "All Snape told me was to clear my mind. Nothing else."

Dumbledore sighed heavily and muttered something under his breath. "I am afraid Harry," he began eventually, "that Professor Snape's method of teaching was not the most constructive. It appears that I will have to speak with him some more on this matter. Nevertheless, although he had told me you were proceeding slowly – now I know why – I am confident that you can be brought up to speed."

What few people there where out shopping so early instantly recognised the pair of wizards walking towards Gringotts Bank. Some nodded and politely wished them a _"Good morning"_, some pointed in wonder and whispered hurriedly among each other, and one particularly excitable wizard even took off his purple hat and bowed low deferentially as they walked past. Harry recognized him as Dedalus Diggle. There were of course one or two scowls among them, but Harry didn't mind that. He was used to it all by now. The goblins in Gringotts acted per usual though: surly and uninterested.

During the ride down to his vault Harry finally drummed up the courage to question his Headmaster. "Sir, why did you get me an exemption from the underage magic law?"

"I would have thought that was obvious my boy. So you can protect yourself if needed without worrying about breaking the law, and so I can begin your Occlumency training as soon as possible."

Harry paused for a moment. "Yes, but why did you tell the Dursleys like that?"

Dumbledore smiled as his mind went back to the look on the muggles faces as he spoke to them. "I felt it was time that they were informed of whom exactly they were required to care for, and the possible consequences for them if they continued to act towards you as they have in the past. Besides," he chuckled, "I wanted to see them squirm."

Harry didn't join in the laughter. After a moment or two he spoke slowly, "Thank you... sir... for doing what you should have done years ago."

Dumbledore pursed his lips in contemplation before turning to his student and nodding his head slowly. "Point taken Harry."

They were both silent the rest of the ride.

Once Harry had taken enough gold from his vault, Dumbledore led him to _Flourish & Blotts_. The storeowner was absentmindedly flicking through pages in a book when they entered because the store was empty of other customers so early in the morning. He looked up to see who had come in and, needless to say, the book quickly lay forgotten on the floor of the shop.

"Albus Dumbledore!" he cried in wonderment. "What brings you to my... HARRY POTTER! Oh, er... er..." He took a quick breath then continued, attempting unsuccessfully to conceal his excitement, "May I... I help you?"

"Yes you may. Mr Potter here would like to buy some books," explained Dumbledore jovially, "and I am here to help him decide which ones will be suitable."

"Naturally, naturally," said the owner, a little more high-pitched than usual. "You will be wanting books on duelling techniques, defence against the dark arts, things like that I presume."

"Among others yes," Dumbledore replied with a slight nod.

The storeowner smiled delightfully, glad he had presumed correctly, and began to lead them over to the far corner of the store. He stopped suddenly and turned to face the famous pair. "Would you like me to close the shop momentarily while you choose?"

"No thank you," said Harry politely before Dumbledore had a chance to say anything. "That won't be necessary. We're not contagious you know".

"But of course you aren't Mr Potter," replied the owner, clearly missing the intended humour. "I was just... I was only..."

"I was only joking," said Harry, a big grin on his face. Sure he'd seen people act nervously around him before, but this was fun for a change.

"Joke? Oh a joke! Of course, of course," the owner said, mightily relieved. "Follow me then."

Dumbledore recommended several extremely advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts books, and a couple of others that the storeowner seemed a little wary at first of selling to someone who was still underage. The fact that the boy in question was Harry Potter, and that it was Albus Dumbledore himself who was suggesting them, seemed to allay his fears however and he was quickly back to his previous goofy, excitable self. Harry also picked up several NEWT level textbooks on Charms and Transfiguration, as well as a range of others dealing with various topics - Occlumency and Animagi being of particular interest of course. Overall, the headmaster was very impressed with Harry's choices.

Before they left the store Dumbledore nimbly skipped over to the Potions shelves and picked up a NEWT level Potions textbook and handed it over to his young protégé, his blue eyes twinkling merrily. "Consider this an early birthday present Harry."

"Thank you sir," Harry gasped. And then his mouth widened into a beaming smile. "Thanks very much," he said, pleased in the knowledge that he was well on his way to becoming an Auror.


	2. WITH AN AUROR

...**WITH AN AUROR**

(Summary: Harry thinks back on events over the first half of the summer while waiting for owls with birthday presents to arrive, and in particular to an interesting little talk with an auror early one morning.)

In a few short minutes Harry would turn 16 years old. Upon the desk in front of him lay an open textbook from which he had been trying to read for the last two hours while waiting patiently for his faithful owl, Hedwig to return. Due to the amount of studying he had done however, Harry's eyelids were slowly becoming heavier and heavier and he was beginning to lose focus. _'I mustn't go to sleep,'_ he kept saying to himself, _'I can't go to sleep. I have to read. Besides, I should have presents to open soon.'_ He forced his eyes to snap open and refocused them upon the pages of '_Fighting the Dark Arts'_.

During the few short weeks after his trip to Diagon Alley with Professor Dumbledore Harry had spent as much time as possible reading through the books he had bought. He had found most of them extremely interesting, although he would try to avoid admitting that to Hermione Granger when he saw her next! Then again, maybe his interest in them had something to do with his dull, dreary surroundings – the books were a reminder of who he really was and where he really belonged. He had learnt the theory behind stronger and more effective shield charms (always useful), he had slowly memorised as many new attack curses and spells as he possibly could (never too many of them), and he had even decided to explore other forms of magic - reading a little book titled '_Wandless Magic?' _as a start.

He had picked it up out of sheer curiosity in _Flourish & Blotts_, but Dumbledore had then been strangely insistent in Harry buying it. Unfortunately the book reiterated mostly what Harry already knew: that wandless magic could only be achieved during heightened moments of stress or emotion, and therefore was something highly unpredictable and virtually uncontrollable for the vast majority of wizards. Still, hadn't Harry controlled his wandless magic while groping for his wand when attacked by the dementors last summer? Or had the wand tip only lit up with his panicked exclamation of "_Lumos" _because he had been extremely near his wand when he had done it? Either way, this art was one Harry was determined to master if possible. Besides, Dumbledore had been quick to explain to Harry that wands had not always been used as the foci of a wizard's magic, and that, with practice, wandless magic was controllable if a witch or wizard was powerful and dedicated enough.

The most valuable textbook Harry had bought though was undoubtedly _'The Workings of Magic'_, which went into great detail about the many theories behind the existence of magic, how wizards controlled their power, and how such power could be focused and increased. It was a big doorstopper of a book, but Harry had found it most interesting regardless and had begun to really wonder why it wasn't provided as a set text at school.

As Harry determinedly continued to read one of his many new books, waiting as patiently as possible for midnight to arrive, he nevertheless couldn't prevent his thoughts from drifting...

After the warnings given to them at Kings Cross the Dursleys had allowed Harry a certain amount of freedom. He hadn't been starved or locked up; they just mostly ignored him, allowing him to do what he wanted as long as he didn't get in their way. This state of affairs was only improved upon after Professor Dumbledore's visit when Harry had found out he was allowed to perform magic outside of school.

In fact, Professor Dumbledore had begun to arrive at Privet Drive once a day, every day, at two o'clock. He would apparate directly to Harry's room (now that he knew which one was his) and would spend the next two hours tutoring his protégé. The first ten minutes or so they would just sit down and talk - Harry detailing any passages he had read that he found especially confusing or interesting, and Dumbledore calmly and simply imparting over a century's worth of experience and knowledge. Also, Harry took the opportunity to put into practice all the different spells and shield charms he had read about. Harry was particularly excited though to be learning how to apparate a year early, but thus far Dumbledore had refused to allow any practical attempts and instead insisted that Harry read up on it first. This was mostly because Occlumency was paramount and extremely tiring for the young wizard. Learning to block Harry's mind took up most of their time together, but Dumbledore kept reminding his student that it was an extremely technical and obscure branch of magic and was bound to take time. Slowly but surely, as Harry's nightly meditation began to improve so did his performances in the afternoon when attempting to throw the Headmaster out of his mind.

Harry's determination to succeed played a large part in his improvement mentally. Physically, his improvement had a large part to do with Dudley. Harry's former whale of a cousin was turning out to be quite a boxer. Obviously years of bullying his freak of a relative and every other little kid he could get his chubby hands on had bizarrely paid off! All the fat blubber that had previously hung off him in great, greasy waves was quickly transforming into muscle. Muscle or not though, Dudley was well aware that Harry had saved his life a year ago, not that he ever even considered thanking him! So, although he hated his cousin as much as ever, when the scrawny little freak came a-knocking on his door, asking warily if he could train with him for the next few weeks, Dudley had quickly agreed. If the freak actually wanted to spend three or four weeks as a willing punch bag, who was Dudley to refuse?

The month before Harry's birthday had therefore been quite eventful, what with daily visits from the headmaster and learning to box and lift weights and such with Dudley. On top of this he was also being fed properly by the Dursleys for the first time ever. Despite his slight appearance Harry was easily capable of packing in large servings of food (five years of being the best friend of Ron Weasley tended to have that effect) and Dudley had decided that if Harry was going to train with him, he was going to have to follow his eating regimen too, which was now much better controlled due to his new found dedication to the noble art of Boxing. There was nothing that Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon could do about this unexpected situation, except grudgingly go along with it, for two reasons: one, they didn't want to incur the wrath of any of the freak's kind that had threatened them at the train station, or for that matter the freak himself now he could perform magic at home; and two, in no way did they want to upset Dudley.

Harry had also decided to go for an early run every morning, setting one of Dudley's old toy alarms to wake him up at six o' clock (once he'd managed to fix it that is!). He could have easily taken a leaf out of his cousin's book and use the treadmill in the basement instead, but Harry liked the fresh air in the morning. Plus it gave him an excuse to get out of the house. Of course he never really needed the alarm to wake him up - nightmares had him snapping awake far, far earlier than necessary.

At first Harry had run alone, but then he began to have company. It wasn't Dudley though - the great bullying git had never been a morning person. No, Harry had suspected there would be an order presence continually watching over him under invisibility cloaks or some such, and he was proven correct the third day into his morning routine, when one of them decided to join him on his run.

Harry had quietly proceeded through the house so as not to wake his relatives at such an early hour. As he softly closed the front door behind him someone spoke. "Wotcher Harry!"

He immediately went for the wand in his back pocket, spinning around to face the source of the greeting.

"Tonks?" he asked slowly to the witch sat on the low garden wall, her hair dark purple and cut short today. He kept his wand steady, pointed directly at her.

"Easy Harry," Tonks said slowly. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"Yeah well," Harry continued, "I've learnt not to be too careful."

Tonks nodded her head slowly. "You're beginning to sound like old Mad-Eye. _Constant vigilance! _" she barked in a perfect imitation of the retired auror.

Harry kept his wand trained on the young woman though. "Yeah and what did Moody do when you lot came to get me last year?" he asked with his eyed narrowed in concentration.

"Please, don't remind me!" Tonks said, pulling a face – not literally though. "He did that disgusting thing with his eye, and then had us flying detours on broomsticks when it was bloody freezing."

Harry smiled for the first time and finally lowered his wand. "Hello Tonks."

"Are you satisfied now Harry?" Tonks said standing up. "Or do I have to do this?" And as she spoke she scrunched up her face and her nose began to lengthen.

Harry chuckled softly. "Its alright, I believe you Pinocchio."

He then paused to take in what Tonks was wearing now that she was no longer sat on the wall. She was dressed like an athlete: a yellow vest and blue shorts that were both very flattering and a seemingly brand new pair of bright, white running shoes, although they had probably just been cleaned excessively. Harry couldn't take his eyes off of her long, shapely, tanned legs though - her shorts were very...well..._short_...and she wasn't wearing any socks, which when put together seemed to enhance the effect very nicely.

"Hey! No gawping!" Tonks hissed, sounding annoyed.

Harry's attention was snapped back to the present, and realising that he had been caught staring, he began to blush like a Weasley. He muttered a quick apology, suddenly finding something interesting to look at on the ground at his feet.

Tonks began to laugh. "I'm only joking Harry. I was just testing to see if you were like any other teenage boy, that's all." With a quick wave of her wand she lengthened the shorts to a more respectable length, or at least to a length she regarded as more sensible which meant there was hardly any change at all. "Besides, be glad you're attention was on my _lovely legs_ and not... _these_." She pointed unceremoniously to her breasts, which began to enlarge like they were being pumped up like balloons, stretching the yellow vest to impossible levels.

Harry's mouth dropped open and he found himself having to be brought back to reality once Tonks had reversed her actions. The young auror snapped her fingers and beamed proudly. "Yep, typical male."

Harry blinked at her, then scowled. "That's not funny Tonks."

"I beg to differ. I just wanted to see whether I could get a...er..._rise_...out of you."

The young teenager grasped immediately at what she was getting at and cringed with embarrassment. He floundered and stuttered, having no idea how to get out of the situation he found himself in.

Tonks on the other hand was enjoying every second of making Harry act his age for once, of making him turn bright red in embarrassment. She needed it. After all, Sirius Black had been her favourite cousin and she felt the loss as much as Harry. She decided to take pity on the poor boy. "I'm sorry Harry," she said, moving towards him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "I just needed to take my mind off things a little, you know."

Harry didn't respond, so Tonks took his silence as some form of acceptance. It would have to do for now. "Anyway, I don't think any red blooded male could stop themselves from staring at someone as stunningly beautiful as me!"

Harry snorted all of a sudden.

"Are you trying to imply that I'm not beautiful Harry Potter?" she said slowly, not..." Harry stammered, "Your very nice...er...I mean attractive...and...and...er ..." He trailed off, blushing redder than he ever had before.

Tonks burst out laughing. "Oh Harry, forget about it. I know you weren't calling me ugly or anything. I'm a Metamorphmagus remember - I can take any appearance I want. Within reason of course."

"Any appearance?" Harry asked, an impish grin rapidly evident.

Tonks had seen that look too many times from members of the opposite sex, a look she had grown to hate. She knew full well what he was implying. "Don't get any ideas!" she said sharply.

It was now Harry's turn to chuckle. It was such a rare feeling for him - it had been a heck of a long time since he'd seen or done anything to make him laugh.

Tonks knew she'd been had, but was inwardly thrilled despite of it. She would never have thought that Harry had it in him to pull a fast one the way things were at the moment, what with Sirius dead and him being locked up with his horrible muggle relatives, and yet here he was beginning to laugh and joke with her. Then again, she'd always been able to bring the funny side out of people – she supposed it was just in her nature to do so.

Looking closer at him though, she knew he was having a hard time of it. He might have been laughing right now, but the humour wasn't extending to his eyes; they were almost lifeless and surrounded by dark heavy lines. She had heard the rumours from other members of the Order of the Phoenix of what Harry had to put up with – especially during the summer months with the Dursleys - but looking at him now he didn't seem starved or mistreated. In fact, he looked physically healthy for a change, although still a little too scrawny. Perhaps the open threat made at Kings Cross had achieved something. Maybe the stupid muggles were actually feeding him properly for a change like normal, nice people.

"There's that smile again." Tonks said brightly, when Harry had stopped laughing. "You know you've got a really nice smile Harry. Too bad we don't see it more often."

Harry didn't know how to respond to that; he was embarrassed once again, but in a nice way this time. His cheeks flushed crimson as it dawned on him for the first time: _'Tonks is flirting with me!'_ Then he quickly revised his thinking: _'She's flirting with me to cheer me up – there's a difference!' _Finally he found his voice and muttered a "Thanks," not really knowing what else to say.

"You're welcome Harry," Tonks replied with a wide smile. "Now are we going to go running or not?"

Harry jerked his head back up in surprise. "What?"

"Well why else would I be waiting outside your house at a quarter past six in the morning dressed like this?"

Harry smiled coyly. "To impress me?"

He was expecting her to shrug his comment off, but Tonks was a step ahead. "Did it work?" she asked.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise at the audacity of the question. '_She really is flirting with me!' _he thought for a moment, but then realised she was still trying to get one up on him. He wasn't going to allow that, so he dramatically made to check her out from head to toe, toe to head, and nodded strongly. "Yeah. It did."

Tonks shook her head in shock. "You cheeky bastard!" she chuckled. "Now come on, I'm here for a morning run, and **_nothing _**else."

Harry did the best impression of Dudley pouting like a spoilt brat that he could muster. "Oh, all right. Follow me," he added with a smile.

Tonks turned to follow but she was trying to come to terms with what she had just seen. For a moment, right at the end there, she had seen something about this famous young wizard for the first time. It wasn't the pout (although it was a bloody good one!), nor was it the smile when it came (the widest she had seen from him yet). It was his eyes. Behind those god-awful glasses, those vibrant green eyes had lit up out of the blue. Just for a moment maybe, but Tonks had seen it – a hint of what Harry would be like without all the guilt, without all the worry, a glimpse of a Harry Potter without a care in the world.


	3. WITH BIRDS & LETTERS

...**WITH BIRDS AND LETTERS**

(Summary: Midnight has come and gone and Harry's birthday has finally arrived, along with a pack of owls carrying letters and presents. How will our favourite boy-wizard react?)

Harry was pulled out of his reverie by the high-speed arrival of a number of owls. First, his Hedwig, a beautiful snowy white, swooped gracefully through the window into his bedroom, followed shortly by the two owls belonging to the Weasley family - the ancient Errol and the tiny, hyperactive Pig – and finally several others that Harry didn't recognise. For a moment, looking at Pig he was reminded of Sirius (he was the one who had suggested Ron keep him), but Harry cut his brooding short. It was his birthday and although Sirius was no longer around to celebrate it with him he wouldn't have wanted Harry to mope around. That more than anything had pulled him through the last few weeks – the knowledge that Sirius wouldn't want Harry to be unhappy. Well, that and his early morning runs with Tonks – that girl was a riot...

Every morning at six-fifteen Harry would emerge from the house to find Tonks sat down on the garden wall waiting impatiently. Somehow she would always find something to say straight off the bat to make him laugh. Then they would go jogging for half an hour or so. It was easily apparent to Harry that he was no match for his auror friend - he would find it difficult to string two words together as he huffed along while she, without breaking a stride, would talk and talk and talk, and it almost always had something to do with her school days, and always made him laugh, which made running even harder. By the time they would finish back outside number four Harry would collapse onto the front lawn and Tonks would stand above him and bitch happily about how unfit the boy-who-lived was, and how he was a disgrace to the name of wizard! While he got his breath back he would try and tell her something not too revealing about his time at Hogwarts, although there were certain obvious topics that he purposefully avoided. Tonks for her part didn't feel the need to pry.

Slowly his general fitness had improved. Between running with Tonks in the early morning, training with Dudley, spending two hours preparing with the Headmaster in the afternoon, and almost every other waking moment reading and studying, Harry's summer seemed to be flying by, although he was well and truly knackered each night when he fell asleep.

Harry handed out the remainder of his owl treats to the assorted birds. "Don't worry Hedwig, I'll make sure to get some more somehow," he said to his faithful owl.

'_Looks like I've got quite a few presents this year,'_ he said to himself. He was suddenly reminded of Dudley's rant in the summer just before his Hogwarts letters had arrived – _Thirty-six! But last year I had thirty-seven! _Well, Harry didn't have _that_ many, but then he wasn't Dudley was he?

Just then a couple more owls came through the window, carrying a parcel between them. Harry jumped out of surprise, first at the fact there were more owls, and second at what they were carrying between them: a long broom shaped parcel. He immediately grabbed it and tore at the wrapping. Onto his bed fell his Firebolt. "Bloody hell!" he breathed. To be honest, he knew what it was before he unwrapped it, it was just that some small part of him wished that it were a different broom. The Firebolt had been a present from Sirius and he would never forgive himself if he damaged it or broke it. Pushing that thought from his mind, and with it any lingering emotions of guilt surrounding his godfather's death for the moment at least – '_Sirius would want me to fly it, that's why he bought it for me!'_ – Harry opened the envelope that had come with it:

Dear Mr Potter,

Happy 16th birthday. This was left behind in the dungeons when you left for the summer. I felt that you would feel much better if this was returned to you.

Also, I would like to inform you that the lifetime ban Dolores Umbridge gave you last year has been revoked along with all those ridiculous Educational Decrees, so you will be allowed to play Quidditch this coming year. I'm sure Miss Weasley would be more than happy to make way for your return, provided that you promise to ensure that the Quidditch Cup is to remain in my office!

We will discuss the issue of captaincy once you return to school.

Yours sincerely,

Professor McGonagall

His ban was lifted! As far as Harry was concerned that was the second best birthday present he had ever received, the first being the Firebolt itself. But would Ginny give up her place as seeker on the team? There was only one answer to that really when he thought about it: of course she bloody would! With his place back on the team virtually assured it was clear from her letter that Professor McGonagall was considering him as possible captain material. All Harry wanted to do though was fly around looking for the snitch - he didn't want the added burden of being captain as well. If she offered him the role, he quickly decided he would have to turn his head of house down.

Next, he took two letters from Errol. At first he was wondering why the Weasley family owl had carried no presents, but his question was answered soon enough. The first letter was from Mrs Weasley:

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday!

I wish I could say that to you in person, but Professor Dumbledore insists that you are to remain with those terrible muggles for a short while longer. At least that's what he has told me.

We are all desperate to see you, or to even hear from you, because for some reason you, Harry James Potter, have not written one single letter all summer. We've been so worried Harry. Why won't you write to us? It hurts when you lose a loved one – I should know, almost my entire family were killed during you-know-who's first rise – but it won't do you any good to distance yourself, so you better send Errol back with a reply or else!

I wish you were right here in front of me now, but I wouldn't know whether to hug you or throttle you. It pains me to tell you this, but it must be said; by distancing yourself away from us you're hurting us Harry, and more importantly, you're hurting yourself.

Don't you dare try to be noble and think that by pushing us away you are protecting us because you're not and deep down you know that too. Accept it Harry, we can't let you go now, so please don't push us away. You've been a part of this family ever since we helped you onto Platform 9 & ¾. You and Ron love each other like you were brothers, and you have always stood by him no matter what, even though I sometimes wonder whether he deserves it. I know he can get extremely jealous of your fame and fortune sometimes Harry, but that's just the way Ron is sometimes, and the fact that you're so modest – perhaps even ashamed – about your wealth and celebrity just makes me love you more.

That's right. Arthur and I love you like you were our own son. You **are** our son. Everything you have done for this family proves that you love us as much as we love you, and it's not just referring to your friendship with Ron. What you did for Fred and George – giving them your TriWizard Cup winnings - was incredibly generous. Idiotic, but generous. If I had found out several months ago what you did I could have slapped you until you were silly, but seeing how happy they are in what they are doing makes me so happy, and because I know that it is all done to your willingness to give I...Well, there really are no words to describe what I feel about it except, Thank you.

Oh dear I seem to be rambling, but I have to quickly write this. Because of you I haven't lost Ginny or Arthur. There is nothing that I could possibly say or do that will ever describe to you how much this means to me. My husband and daughter are alive because you saved them Harry. Yes you did.

The very least I can say is that I will never let you get away from us now Harry. Never.

I love you,

Molly

PS. If you're wondering why Errol hasn't carried any presents then don't worry, I just felt that he's too old to do so much. Fred and George have kindly allowed me to place some presents among theirs, and their owl – they can afford one of their own now – will have brought them.

Tears were forming in Harry's eyes as he read, but he determinedly held them back. He had not really known he meant so much to Mrs Weasley. It made his heart soar to know that there were people out in the world who loved him. How could he distance himself from the Weasleys now knowing that? He couldn't.

He decided he wouldn't be able to catch Pig, not in his current teary-eyed state anyway, so he moved onto the unfamiliar owls. Professor Lupin had bought him an advanced textbook which would help him with his studies; one which, according to the accompanying letter, Professor Dumbledore had assured Remus (he insisted that Harry call him that or Moony now that he wasn't his teacher) Harry didn't own. Remus didn't mention Sirius at all in his letter, which was no surprise really.

Hagrid had sent his usual collection of uneatables. It _was_ the thought that count, but Harry was going to have to dispose of them somehow without feeling too guilty about it.

He then decided to calm Pig down as the little owl was making a racket and causing all the other Owls to become restless. Hedwig in particular seemed disgusted with Pig's behaviour. Ron's gift was a big box of _Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans_, with a short letter attached. Harry's best friend wasn't exactly the most literate of people:

Happy Birthday Mate,

I'm sorry about the present but I couldn't think of anything else. Anyway, I hope you're holding up and that you'll write back this time!! I should see you pretty soon.

Ron

Harry chuckled at the simplicity of it - his best friend had never been that hard to work out. The first line meant one of two things: either the present had been gotten last minute; or Ron couldn't afford anything else and didn't want to admit it. It was probably both in fact. Harry didn't care though; he loved _Bertie Botts Beans. _Second line: Ron was clearly worried and concerned but didn't know what to say. Third line: He would be leaving Privet Drive soon! It was truly a short note that, in its way, said so much.

Hermione's present also came with Pig for some reason. She had gotten him a wand holster of all things. "Wow, Hermione," was all he could say as he removed it from its box. He held the black leather in his hands reverently, inspecting it from all angles. "Bloody fantastic!" he muttered, and then moved onto her letter.

Happy Birthday Harry.

I'm sure you'll like the present. When I saw it in Hogsmeade last year I knew it was perfect for you.

Why haven't you responded to any of my letters? I know what happened was terrible, but you shouldn't blame yourself. Please write. You haven't written to Ron either, have you? You really are being stupid. I know Sirius meant a lot to you, but that's no excuse to close yourself off from us.

You're going to have to write to tell me your OWL results if I don't get to see you soon anyway. They should have arrived by now. You don't think there has been any problems with them do you? I can't wait to see what I got. I'm so nervous that I can barely stop thinking about them.

Enjoy the present. I'm sure I will see you soon.

Love,

Hermione

Like chalk and cheese. Whereas Ron was afraid to say too much, Hermione had no qualms in tackling the issue head on. It was good to know that some things had yet to change.

As it turned out, one of the unfamiliar owls belonged to Fred and George, the tyrant twins of the Weasley family, but it came as no surprise considering Mrs Weasley had told him in her letter about it. Their gift to him turned out to be a real shock:

Our Esteemed Investor and Fellow Prankster,

Happy Birthday. We can't believe that you're sixteen already. We think it's time for you to get a full pint of Firewhisky into you. After all, that's what we did when we turned sixteen. Or was it fifteen? Aaah, those where the days!

Anyway, instead of giving you a box of Bertie Beans (Ron beat us to it!) or even some of our products to test on that fat cousin of yours (although we were sorely tempted until mum threatened us!) we have decided to give you something spectacular to show you our gratitude for your timely investment. You are now the third partner in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!!

As a partner you are entitled to an equal share of the profits, as well as a say in how things are run. Of course, we're sure that you'd much rather spend your time snogging the many, many girls vying for your attention at school, so you can just leave things in our very capable hands!! Just so you know, the shop in Diagon Alley is almost ready. We'll be open just before the mad rush before school starts. Trust us and you won't have to do a thing and still be making money. Brilliant eh?

By the way, our dear little sister has shown interest in helping us use Hogwarts as a testing ground for our products, so you can help her. Now that Hogwarts will be bereft without us, you and Ginny better start making up for the loss of our pranking brilliance. We're sure she won't mind you spending some time alone with her at any rate!

Fred & George

PS Say hello to Gem, our owl, short for Gemini of course. Isn't she cute?

Wow, what a letter! Harry had half a mind to refuse the twins of their offer, but then realised that if they accepted 1000 galleons from him, what gave him the right to refuse a gift of a similar magnitude from them? Harry supposed the twins knew what they were doing with their money, so he decided he wouldn't get involved. The idea of Harry continuing on the Fred and George legacy in school was a great idea though. He'd have to have a chat with Ginny about it. It would at least take his mind off other things once in a while. Harry was sure Padfoot would approve.

Gem was surprisingly well behaved, unlike her owners. In fact, she was almost as disciplined as Hedwig, and more than capable of carrying several packages at once. Besides the twins' letter, she had also carried Mrs Weasley's usual collection of cakes and pies. Of course she wasn't to know that the Dursleys weren't starving him anymore!

Gem had also delivered Ginny's present. Unwrapping it he found it was a photo album. Embossed on the front of the brown leather, in gold ink, were the two initials _H.P._ Turning the pages his eyes feasted upon photo after photo – wizarding ones of course: Ron and Hermione in the Gryffindor Common Room, his sixth year dorm-mates sat around the fireplace, one of the entire Weasley family (minus Percy), basically pictures of all his friends in various situations and number. Some of the photos had him in them, but most didn't. There was even one of the entire DA, minus himself of course. It dawned on Harry that Ginny must have been working on his present for quite some time, and she must have gone to considerable effort too. It was incredibly thoughtful. No, it was beyond that. He turned over to a photo of Ginny sat by herself in one of the sofas around the Gryffindor common room, and as she waved to him from the confines of the little piece of wizarding magic he said quietly, "Thank you Ginny. Thank you so much."

Harry's eyes widened in shock when he began to read the letter she had written though:

Harry,

You really are a selfish, ignorant bastard!

Now don't get angry with me because you are a bastard, and you know it too. How could you not even write one letter to us? Just one for Merlin's sake! Do you have any idea what mum is going through right now? She's so worried about you. We all are, and all you've done is ignore us. Have you even read any of our letters?

Anyway, Happy Birthday. I hope you like the present. I've grown up with loving parents to take care of me, and six brothers to annoy me, so I sometimes take it for granted that I have a family. This album is to always remind you that you have a family too, and that it's all of us!

I don't know whether I should write this, but I don't think I have the guts to tell you in person. You are one hell of a wizard Harry Potter. I got full marks on my 4th year DADA test!! And it's all because of you and what you taught me in the DA. It's certainly not down to that bitch Umbridge!

I've seen what you can do, and because of it I'm not as scared as I would be otherwise. I know what Tom wants, and how strong he is (thanks to my first year), and I know that you will always be stronger. He might have it in for you, but you can stop him if you have to face him again. I know it.

Sorry about that. I had to write it. I know you're hurting. I know you feel guilty and blame yourself for what happened to Sirius. I know because I've been there and let me tell you it is not a nice place! I won't tell you to snap out of it, or to stop being so stupid because I know that it won't do any good, for you or me. I won't hit you or curse you either even though I'm sorely tempted to do so! Instead, I'll wait. You'll talk when you're ready, and if you want to talk to me I'll be waiting. After all, I've become an expert at waiting.

Please write something!

Love

Ginny

PS Have Fred and George told you about my idea. If you're up for it we're going to cause some real mayhem at school this year.

After reading the letter, Harry wasn't sure what to think. At first he was furious that she had the gall to insult him, but then perhaps she had a point, he reasoned to himself. As he continued to read his emotions changed as quickly as hers appeared to. He was amazed and a little proud that she'd gotten full marks in her DADA exam, although he was too modest to agree that it was all down to him. But it was her sentiments over Voldemort (or Tom as she called him) that struck him the most. She was so sure that if he faced Riddle again that he would win! Hardly anyone had ever shown so much blind faith in him before. It just made him more determined to succeed.

All in all it had been a good start to Harry's birthday; a nice little collection of presents and letters, although a lot of the latter showed that quite a few people were annoyed with him. True, he hadn't responded to any of their letters, which in fact all lay unopened on his desk, but he simply needed a little bit of time and space to reflect alone. Tonks had brought up his lack of communication with his friends during one of their morning runs and he'd told her exactly that. Of course, the fact that he didn't seem to have the time to respond to their letters might have played a role too. Obviously, his friends were clearly of the opinion that time and space was the last thing he needed!

Still, Harry wasn't sure whether he was ready to talk to someone or not. Sure, he and Tonks had skirted the issue a couple of times, but on each occasion they had generally relapsed into an awkward silence moments after broaching the subject of his godfather and the events at the ministry – a clear sign that neither were fully prepared to lance that particular boil yet. Thinking about Sirius now though, Harry thought that perhaps the guilt had lessened a little; he was still largely at fault in his mind, but so was Dumbledore, so was Riddle and Bellatrix, and so was Sirius himself.

Perhaps he was ready to talk it over with someone, but it would have to be someone who understood what he was going through. Who though? Dumbledore? Ron and Hermione? Ginny had offered to listen to him when she was ready hadn't she? It had to be someone, and yet he still wasn't sure he wanted to talk to anyone. It was all so confusing. He didn't want to confront his guilt; he just wanted it to go away, but how could his emotional scars heal if he didn't confront them? They wouldn't.

Harry was getting a headache now. His mind was whirling with the almost limitless amount of problems he was facing, not even counting the small matter of a Prophecy. But before he could come to any conclusion, another bird came soaring gracefully through his open window.

It was a Phoenix. The atmosphere in the room lightened considerably just with its calm soothing presence. "Fawkes?" Harry whispered loudly, but even as he said it he somehow knew this wasn't Dumbledore's companion. This bird was a little bigger than Fawkes; the golden beak was a little straighter, the red and gold plumage a little different in pattern Harry surmised as the proud bird perched itself on his bedpost.

The unknown Phoenix eyed him warily for a moment as if it was checking to make sure that Harry was worthy of being in its presence, before gracefully swooping down the short distance onto the young man's lap and shrilling a short note or two of Phoenix song.

Harry's heart immediately soared, confidence and courage coursing through his veins and arteries, contentment and power weaving its magical way into his very soul. He had heard the Phoenix song of Fawkes, and this was exactly the same - it was more intoxicating, more influential than anything he had ever felt in his life. All doubt and worry, all negative emotion and thoughts were swept aside on a tide of peaceful, passive calm. It was safe to say that Harry's headache was long forgotten.

It was as Harry began to softly stroke the plumage on the Phoenix's back that he noticed that the bird was carrying a little package in one of its claws. "For me?" Harry asked, not even doubting that the bird could understand him. The Phoenix shrilled in response, Harry once again feeling the intense waves of serenity and peaceful power pulsing through him. He grasped the little package with his free hand. It turned out to be a short note:

Happy Birthday Harry Potter. Have you said hello to Kesick? If you are reading this note then he has decided that you are worthy of his attention. This is a great honour that only a select few have been granted. Now, just gently grasp his tail-feathers and he will bring you to me. I have waited long to speak with you.

It wasn't signed, but to Harry that didn't matter. How could he consider the author of the note a threat when it came via such a bird? He had no doubt that the person he was about to meet was going to pose no threat to him. "Hello Kesick," he said, nodding politely to the Phoenix.

Kesick shrilled once more. This time, although the feelings the Phoenix song engendered were no less powerful, Harry also felt more focused, as if the clouds in his mind were blown lightly away and he knew clearly what he was to do.

"Could you wait for a few moments Kesick?" Harry asked respectfully. "I have to send these owls on their way."

In response the Phoenix lifted off and swept over once more onto the bedpost. The bird was making it clear that it was indeed willing to wait until Harry was ready.

Harry quickly sent all the birds out into the night sky, but before he did he quickly grabbed a spare piece of parchment:

_Mrs Weasley,_

_Thank you all for the presents. Tell everyone that I WILL write soon! Later today in fact._

_Harry_

He gave the note to Errol and ushered all the owls out of the window. He turned to Kesick. "Right. Is there anything I need to bring with me?"

The Phoenix merely swept over to Harry and offered its tail-feathers for Harry to hold onto. Just as he was about to do so he was distracted by a soft _"hoot hoot_"from behind. He turned around to the source of the noise, and saw Hedwig staring intently at him from the top of her cage. Understanding immediately, Harry said to Kesick, "I think Hedwig wants to come too. Can she?" he asked.

Once again, the beautiful bird gazed intently for a moment or too, this time at Harry's snowy owl. Kesick then sang a little note of Phoenix song. Somehow Harry knew what the bird was saying – that Hedwig was more than welcome to come along and that Harry would have to grasp firmly onto his owl with his free hand.

"Come on then girl," he said to his faithful friend, who flew gently into the grasp of his left hand. He then clasped onto the tail-feathers of Kesick with his right.

He was immediately surrounded in a ball of fire, but all he felt was a powerful sense of safety and love. In the blink of an eye Harry found himself standing on a darkened stone floor.


	4. WITH A LEGEND

...**WITH A LEGEND**

(Summary:We discover the identity of the person who sent Harry the mysterious note - a true legend with whom our favourite boy-wizard has an extremely frank and deeply revealing discussion.)

There was no source of light, so Harry whipped out his wand. He was about to mutter _Lumos,_ but thoughts of underage magic made him hesitate. Could he get away with breaking wizarding law yet again? Then he remembered with a roll of the eyes that the law no longer applied to him thanks to his Headmaster, but before he said the incantation a low deep voice spoke from behind him.

"Hello Harry Potter." Harry turned around to see a man eerily similar in appearance to Professor Dumbledore standing before him, his wand tip alight with a small, extremely bright light. Regardless of the fact that the man made Harry immediately think of his Headmaster, he got the distinct impression that the stranger was distinctly familiar anyway. "It is indeed a great honour to finally meet you young wizard."

Harry responded with a short nod. "Hello." He kept his own wand plainly in view of the old white-haired man before him, showing that he was alert and ready for any eventuality. He was dying to know who the man was, but perhaps a little patience wouldn't go amiss.

"I see that you have brought an owl along with you? Is she a companion of yours?" the man asked, his eyes twinkling merrily in the wandlight behind circular glasses not unlike his own, Harry thought.

"Yes, this is Hedwig. She has been exactly five years now".

"Ah, she was a birthday present then?" the man asked rhetorically, nodding his head as he spoke.

This time Hedwig responded, who had by now released herself from her master's grasp and was perched comfortably on his left shoulder. She hooted softly and flapped her wings a little.

The long-bearded man smiled ruefully. "You are a very intelligent and loyal friend, Hedwig. It is an honour to meet you," he said gently, but commandingly.

Harry's owl stood proudly, her chest puffed outwards. She was clearly very impressed with the man's attitude, and very flattered with his words of praise too.

Harry kept his wand raised however. He felt that perhaps he looked a tad silly, and maybe even a little discourteous as well, to remain in such an openly hostile posture, but as Mad-eye kept on saying again and again – _'Constant vigilance'_.

The unknown man seemed not in the least put out by Harry's behaviour. "Kesick agreed to bring _both_ you and Hedwig along Harry Potter?" Harry nodded. "I must say that this is indeed a surprise. Believe me when I say that if he agreed to such a circumstance, Kesick must think very highly of the both of you."

Both Hedwig and her master seemed pleased with the stranger's statement. Harry nodded graciously to the Phoenix who was now perched on her master's right shoulder. "Thank you Kesick," he said.

"I agree with my dear Phoenix that first impressions are very important," the stranger spoke, "and, just like him, my first impressions of the two of you are extremely positive. For your part Harry Potter, you remain cautious – keeping your eyes and your wand forever on me – and patient in that you are waiting for me to tell you who I am in my own time. Caution and patience are two traits that I value very highly. Hedwig," he continued, turning his intense gaze upon the snowy old, "by positioning yourself on your master's shoulder you have made it clear that you are willing to protect him against any attack. You show that you are just as courageous and as loyal as your master. These two qualities are indeed of the highest order."

Silence reigned for a moment or two before the stranger spoke again. "Now it is time for me to make my business known. Would you please follow me?"

He led them further into the cave. Around the corner, Harry immediately began to discern a soft shimmering light in the distance that quickly came upon them. The four companions – two humans and two birds perched on their shoulders – stepped into a fairly large cavern where the walls and roof gave out an orange glow that lit the open space. The stranger used his wand to conjure up a pair of plush green armchairs and a golden perch with lines of shining crystal carved beautifully in its surface.

"Harry Potter, please take a seat," the wizard said, pointing to the chair furthest away, "and Hedwig, I believe Kesick is willing to share his perch with you."

Harry took the offered seat and the old man proceeded to gracefully sit down opposite. The two birds flew swiftly over to the golden perch. "Now Harry Potter." He didn't elaborate for a moment, but then asked, "I suppose you are wondering where we are?" Harry nodded. "This cave, a few miles north of the town of Macclesfield, is hidden to everyone except those who I wish to see it. The surrounding area has come to be known as Alderley Edge. I think you will find it amusing that although this cave is hidden, its legend yet survives."

"Legend?" Harry asked.

"Yes," the stranger replied. "About half a mile to the south is a muggle establishment called the _Wizard Inn_, and there is an effigy of a wizard carved in the rocks above the _Wizard's Well_, about a quarter of a mile to the west. The legend goes that there is a hidden cave somewhere upon this Edge, guarded by a wizard, where an army of men and horses sleep, ready to emerge and save the country when the need is dire. Of course, as with most myths and legends, it does have a basis in fact."

"And what fact is that?" Harry inquired.

"The hidden cave is of course the one you find yourself in now, Harry Potter," the stranger answered, "and the wizard that guards the cave is of course myself."

Harry was confused. The stranger before him was obviously confident in his power, but he looked as though he could keel over dead any moment now. He looked positively ancient, older even than Professor Dumbledore, and Harry was more certain than ever that he had seen him somewhere before.

"You?" Harry asked tentatively. The ancient stranger nodded his head. "I'm sorry, but have I met you before? You look familiar."

"Yes I am sure that you have," the old man responded. "Tell me, do you like chocolate?"

A bit bewildered by such an odd and unexpected question, Harry could only wrinkle his brow in total confusion and nod his head in response.

"How about Chocolate Frogs in particular?"

Harry's eyes widened in shock as he finally knew why the old man was asking such seemingly strange questions. "You! B-but you...you can't be...you're...you're..."

The stranger raised his hand. "Relax young wizard. I can assure you that magic can make much of the seemingly impossible quite easily possible. I am Merlin." He spoke with such calm and authority that Harry found it impossible to doubt him, even if such a thing seemed positively ludicrous. Before Harry could say anything though the old man smiled and said, "I must say I have taken quite a liking to Chocolate Frogs. Not because I am one of the Cards available you must realise – I just find that I have become quite addicted to them."

Harry couldn't help himself from chuckling; the resemblance to Professor Dumbledore was uncanny. He wondered to himself: _Do all great wizards act like this? _And yet, there was a still a nagging doubt in the corner of Harry's mind that this old wizard was still hiding something important from him. Just to make sure he wasn't dreaming Harry pinched his left forearm strongly, and just managed to suppress a yelp of pain.

Merlin continued, "I must say that I was intrigued when I first came across them a decade or so ago. I was extremely flattered to find myself as one of the Cards. It has been many, many years since my apparent passing and still people seem to hold me in such high regard. It is very humbling. I am sure that you know a little of what I speak Harry Potter. After all, you yourself are quite well known in the wizarding world, yes?"

Harry's bewilderment was swept aside immediately. For ten long years he had suffered alone at the Dursleys, dreaming of being among people who would give him at least the time of day, of having friends and family - but although he now had friends his new-found celebrity just seemed to grow and worsen with each passing year. He hated being famous.

"Are you not happy with your fame Harry Potter?" Merlin asked. Harry's facial expressions had obviously betrayed his thoughts. "You find such attention to be a burden?"

"Yes," Harry spoke softly.

"And why is that?"

"Because I don't deserve any of it. Because I don't want any of it. All I want is to be normal." He sighed. "But I will never have that luxury will I?"

Merlin seemed to ponder on Harry's question for a moment. "No, perhaps not. But then there is no such thing as normal young wizard."

Neither spoke for several seconds before Harry gathered the nerve to ask something. "Sir, exactly how much do you know of me?" He once more thought of that nagging suspicion that the full truth was being held from him.

"I know everything of you Harry Potter, and please call me Merlin," the legendary wizard responded. "You were born on July 31st 1980. Your parents were struck by killing curses on Halloween the next year, curses cast by Tom Riddle, who prefers to go by the name Lord Voldemort. You did the impossible and survived the final killing curse he cast that night. You spent the next ten years in the 'care' of your Aunt and Uncle, before finally being told your true heritage on your eleventh birthday by a half-giant called Hagrid. He was the one who gave Hedwig to you was he not?" Merlin asked, gesturing with his left hand to the proud owl perched alongside the beautiful Phoenix. "You have spent the last five years attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, under the watchful eye of its headmaster, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. A very capable young man he is too, if I may say so myself."

If there were one thing Harry would never associate with Dumbledore it would be 'young'! Then again, Merlin was supposed to have died well over 1000 years ago, so perhaps from his point of view Dumbledore was young.

Harry's mind, which had started to wander, latched back onto the voice of the old wizard as if it had suddenly grasped him with full force and demanded him to listen. "Yes, I suppose to you it is strange to describe Albus Dumbledore as young." Merlin said, his beard twitching as he tried to contain a small bout of mirth.

"You read my mind?" Harry asked slowly.

"I am quite proficient in Legilimency, although it is an art I prefer to refrain from practicing." Merlin explained. "Besides, as I am sure you well know, the only way I could read your thoughts directly were if I cast the spell upon you, which I did not." He stared intently at Harry, who cringed in embarrassment at his momentary lack of knowledge – he had been told several times the limits of Legilimency and still forgot. "I did not need to perform Legilimency upon you anyway," Merlin continued. "You seemed to have drifted away into your own mind and were no longer listening to me."

"Sorry," Harry muttered.

"No need to apologize young wizard. We are all prone to the odd bout of distraction. Anyway, as I was saying, during this time you have shown yourself to be an excellent and gifted student - if somewhat distracted and unfocused from time to time," Merlin added with raised eyebrows, "and a truly remarkable young man, showing maturity and bravery far beyond your tender years." Harry began to blush, but Merlin continued. "You thwarted Tom Riddle's attempt to gain the Philosopher's Stone in your first year, killed a Basilisk of all things in your second year, repelled a large horde of advancing dementors at the end of your third year – in spectacular fashion I might add. Then in your fourth year you won the TriWizard tournament in what can safely be described as...unfortunate circumstances, and then gave your entire winnings to a couple of friends so they could start a joke shop without even requesting anything in return for yourself! I have never seen such generosity in someone so young."

Harry just stared in amazement at the wizard before him – the man knew everything. How was that possible?

Merlin, noticing Harry's expression of shock, said, "You see Harry Potter, that I have been closely following you your entire life. Your escape from the clutches of Tom Riddle at the end of the tournament was in particular, quite startling."

"Why do you know so much about me?" Harry asked, his suspicions rising slowly.

Merlin stroked his long beard for a moment or two, quietly considering Harry's short, but not necessarily so simple, question. "The answer to that question is not one I am sure you will like."

Harry sat back into his comfortable armchair, frowning. "It wouldn't be the worse thing I've been told recently," he said carefully.

"Hmmm, I am assuming that you refer to the Prophecy regarding yourself and the current Dark Lord." Merlin said simply.

Harry's jaw dropped. Now he was really concerned. "How...you can't possibly..."

"Know of the existence of the Prophecy?" Merlin interrupted. "But the Prophecy is part of the very reason why we find ourselves in this cavern talking to one another young wizard."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked in a confused, but slightly angry voice. He hated being manipulated – he'd had enough of it from Dumbledore.

"Let me explain myself fully," Merlin said, leaning forward in his chair. "After I defeated the last in a long line of Dark Wizards in my time, I knew that there would always be others to eventually claim the title as their own, that there will never truly be peace in the world in which we live in. Now, I took it upon myself to ensure that those who turn to evil shall never succeed in overcoming all that is pure and good in this world."

"How?" Harry asked.

"Please, no interruptions," the old wizard said reprovingly. "As the most powerful wizard in existence I knew that it was unlikely that a Dark Lord would rise to match my power." He said this without a trace of arrogance or humility, as if it were just a plain fact, nothing more. "Still, I knew that the appearance of another dark wizard of truly terrifying power remained not a possibility, but a certainty, so I performed a ritual that placed my body and soul into a form of hibernation. I felt that if an extremely powerful dark wizard were ever to come to prominence, it might be necessary for me to be on hand to aid in his or her destruction."

"But then how could you come out of hibernation at the right time? How were you to know when a dark lord had arisen?"

"Both good questions Harry Potter." Merlin said, softly nodding his head.

"Please just call me Harry"

Merlin smiled knowingly. "As you wish...Harry. As to your pertinent questions the answers are quite complicated. The ritual I performed upon myself allowed me to awaken for several days every 100 years in order for me to determine whether or not my assistance in the endless struggle against the Dark Arts was needed. The last time this occurred was in the early 1940's."

"Grindelwald," Harry said immediately.

"Indeed." The old wizard said slowly, reflectively, as if his mind had wandered to memories better left forgotten, but when he spoke again a few moments later, his tone was back to its previous aloof self, and Harry quickly forgot the knee-jerk reaction of the wizard opposite to the name of Riddle's predecessor as Dark Lord. "However, on each occasion I have found that I have not found it necessary to intervene. And now I know why."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

Merlin paused for a moment before continuing. "I have discovered that there has always been present those powerful enough to prevent Dark Lords from gaining the ascendancy. I began to realise that the ritual I performed upon myself was perhaps merely a sign of bravado on my part."

Harry raised his eyebrows. He had an idea of what the legendary wizard was getting at, and his suspicions were immediately confirmed when Merlin spoke again. "I overstated my own importance. I should have simply allowed myself to die peacefully and to leave future generations to sort out their own problems. Put simply Harry, I was foolish and arrogant."

Harry didn't know what to say. Considering Merlin's words though, there was something which confused him. "But if you come out of hibernation every 100 years what are you doing here now when the last time you awoke was just 50 years ago?"

"Ah, now you see the true reason why the two of us are here Harry." Merlin said smiling brightly, his blue eyes twinkling merrily once more. "You see I placed a safeguard into the ritual – an extremely complex safeguard that took me months to construct – that would reanimate me immediately if ever there came a time when a Dark Lord existed who matched or surpassed my powers."

"You're referring to Voldemort, aren't you?" Harry asked, dreading to think the evil his nemesis could unleash if he was indeed as powerful as Merlin!

"I am." Merlin answered. "I was unexpectedly awoken from my slumber a little over sixteen years ago. At that time I immediately recognised the gravest of threats that Tom Riddle posed to the world. Echoing the legend I earlier spoke of, the country was in dire need. I discovered the exact details of this particular Dark Lord's rise to power and I grew greatly concerned. However, once again it quickly became clear to me that my presence was far from needed."

"How?"

"I learned of the Prophecy Harry." Merlin responded simply.

"How?" Harry was deeply worried, if Merlin knew what it's contents were then possibly other, more dangerous people might have found out too.

"Do not fret young wizard. Like the spy of Tom Riddle, I too was in the Hog's Head and heard the first part of the Prophecy spoken to Albus Dumbledore. Also, like the spy I was unable to hear the rest. Your headmaster erected a most powerful privacy shield around the room in which he and Sybil Trelawney were conducting their interview – a shield that not even I could have broken through if I had took it upon myself to try."

Harry didn't interrupt this time. He wasn't sure that there was anything he could say to make any difference.

"As I said, young Albus Dumbledore is an exceptionally gifted wizard, the most powerful I have come across in fact. However, not even he, I knew, was strong enough to defeat Tom Riddle, and that is why I was more concerned than I had ever been. I was there in the Hog's Head that night to reveal myself to him, so that we could perhaps confront Tom Riddle together." Merlin smiled. "But as you well know Harry, fate ensured that my proposed actions were not needed. The Prophecy was spoken in young Dumbledore's presence to ensure that the contents of it would remain hidden from Tom Riddle. Fate itself intervened to guarantee that the most powerful light wizard in the world would be the sole person who knew the details of the words spoken through Sybil Trelawney – therefore ensuring that such dangerous knowledge would be safe. When this happened I finally knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the ritual I performed upo myself was entirely unnecessary, regardless of my intentions behind taking such a drastic measure."

Silence fell between the two wizards again. Harry was unsure of what to say – especially since the greatest wizard of all time had just admitted to making a very big mistake, or at least a large oversight. How was he supposed to respond to that?

Finally, Merlin broke the silence again. "Once the Prophecy was made I decided to discontinue the ritual and live out what remains of my life quietly and in peace. My time was many years ago. I do not belong here. However, before I take my leave I feel I can help you in your task."

"Really? How?" Harry asked eagerly.

"It is at once surprisingly simple and incredibly difficult." Merlin said with a smile. "I think it is time for me to give you your birthday present."

"You've got...m-me a present?" Harry stuttered in astonishment. All he could think was, '_Bloody Merlin of all people has got me a birthday present! This is not normal! This is unreal!_'

"Yes Harry I have." Merlin answered, and he raised his left hand in front of him. "I am giving you this ring," he said simply. On his middle finger was a simple silver band with no inscriptions or fancy carvings of any sorts. It was just a plain ring - except for a small, blindingly bright, circular, blue crystal fit snugly within a carved hollow of the band.

"This ring, or rather the crystal at the heart of the ring" Merlin continued, "is my true magical focus. I created it personally when I found that there were certain spells and charms that the wand I had crafted could not help me perform fully. As you know, wands have not always been used as foci for a wizard's magic. I felt that a ring would be more personal, less noticeable. It is this ring which allowed me to achieve my full potential Harry. I still use my wand considerably of course," he said, twirling the object in question in his left hand, "but really it is unnecessary. Over time, as you begin to harness your full power with the aid of this gift, your wand will also become superfluous."

Harry was struck speechless by the magnitude of Merlin's gift. All he could say was, "Wow!"

Merlin chuckled. "Yes, I thought you might like it. Believe me when I say that I no longer have any use for my ring; I am more than happy to pass it onto you, my successor." He slipped the ring off his finger and made to pass it over to Harry.

Harry leaned forward and the ring was placed into the palm of his right hand. "Thank you," he said, carefully inspecting the gift. He began to twirl it around with his left index finger. The simplicity of the ring really made it all the more beautiful, he decided.

"Well, are you going to put it on or not?" Merlin chuckled.

Harry's head snapped up. "Can I?"

The legendary wizard shook his head in wonder. "I wouldn't have given it to you otherwise."

Harry blushed a little. He was still a little amazed at everything that was happening that his mind was in a rush. He lifted the ring off of his palm. "Which finger do I...?

"The same one I wore it on young wizard." Merlin interrupted.

Harry nodded and slipped his gift onto the middle finger of his right hand. Automatically, the silver band adjusted in size to fit perfectly around his wiry digit. As Harry began to inspect his present he suddenly realised something. He had never thought of the possibility of such a thing before, but placing a ring on one's finger brought such thoughts to mind.

"Don't worry Harry," Merlin said with a knowing smirk, "I believe it is traditional to wear one's wedding ring on the ring finger of one's left hand."

Harry sighed. "How did you know that?"

"Over the years I have become quite adept at discerning people's thoughts from their expressions," Merlin explained. It is a gift that years of experience has given me."

Harry nodded. Dumbledore seemed to do that sort of thing as well. '_Perhaps it's something everyone gets good at when they're older'_, he thought.

"Forgive me if this question is a little too personal," Merlin said, bringing Harry out of his wandering thoughts, "but is there anyone in particular you had in mind when you thought of the possibility of a wedding ring?"

Harry's eyes widened. It sure was a personal question! Oddly enough though he didn't mind answering him, particularly as there never had been anyone special in his life. He shook his head. "I've never had much luck with girls, Merlin." _'Bloody hell!' _he realised, _'I'm talking about girls with Merlin!!' _This meeting was getting weirder by the minute!

"Perhaps you just haven't met the right girl yet, Harry. Or, maybe you have and you are just a little too modest for your own good."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Well, as I'm sure you are aware, fame and celebrity can often bring unwanted attention from some members of the opposite sex. I am sure there are many girls at Hogwarts who would be more than happy to...'go out' I believe is the right phrase nowadays...with the-boy-who-lived!"

Harry scowled. His thoughts went back to the Yule Ball and how many girls had asked him to go with them – some of them which he had never spoken one word to!

"Yes, it is quite a stumbling block," Merlin said knowingly, "to know whether a woman is paying you attention because of yourself or just because of your name. It can be quite a problem, I imagine."

Harry nodded. He had never been sure why Cho Chang had wanted to go out with him. Was it because she liked him? Or was it because she wanted to be able to flaunt herself as 'the-girlfriend-of-the-boy-who-lived?' Harry really did hate his fame! It gave him so many problems and difficulties.

"What about the three young women who accompanied you to the Department of Mysteries last month?" Merlin asked. "Surely they see you as more than just a celebrity?"

"You really do know everything, don't you?" Harry said coldly. He was beginning to become irritated with such an intrusive line of questioning.

"Nobody knows everything, young wizard." Merlin answered. "I admit though, that I am a very curious person. It has landed me in trouble on more than one occasion. Anyway, Misses Lovegood, Granger and Weasley must have strong feelings for you if they are willing to put their lives in danger for you. I was just wondering if you know exactly what their feelings are towards you...and yours to them."

Harry frowned, but decided to answer the question "I'm not sure that I can really answer that. I mean, I don't think I know them all well enough. I don't really notice these sort of things."

Merlin laughed openly. "You are avoiding the question," he said. "Tell me, what are your feelings towards the three young witches in question?"

"Why should I?" Harry answered hotly, his voice finally betraying his hidden irritation. "I don't need to tell you anything!"

Merlin appeared unfazed by the young man's outburst. He said simply, "I am just curious Harry."

"Yeah well, you can SHOVE OFF!" Harry shouted, anger bubbling once more. He could feel it, as if some unknown terrible force was struggling desperately to burst forth from within him. It was the 'balloon-ready-to-burst' feeling he had experienced in front of Dumbledore. It didn't burst however, it continued to grow and grow. "I am sick and tired of people sticking their noses in my private life. You can bugger off like the rest of them! So what if I can't get any girl to see past my name at the real me. So what if I spend all my time trying to stay alive rather than living the life of a normal teenager! It is none of your business! See if I care if everyone calls me a freak who..."

Merlin could feel the anger and desperation emanating from Harry as the young wizard continued to rant and rave. He looked down at his ring on Harry's finger, noticing that the bright blue glow from the crystal was darkening ever so slightly and that the silver band was beginning to expand and grow. It no longer fit perfectly onto the young man's finger. He looked back up into the intensely green eyes of the younger wizard and spoke clearly and powerfully, "ENOUGH!"

Harry's mouth clamped shut as if he had been hit with a silencing charm. If he had been awed at the sight of Dumbledore angry, it was nothing compared to the sight before him now. It was as if Merlin had been transformed; where an eccentric, charming old wizard had sat now stood someone who finally looked like the most powerful wizard of all time, a wizard of such self-confidence and terrifying power that it made Harry lean backwards into his seat. The wave of magical energy flowing from the changed man was incredible.

As Harry closed his eyes, partly to shield himself from the sight before him, but mostly to gather his own emotions and his own power back under control, Merlin allowed his show of strength to dissipate. He walked over to where Hedwig and Kesick were perched and softly stroked them, whispering soft words of comfort as he calmed them down. The two birds had quite obviously become extremely agitated, and the old wizard was quietly soothing them. At length he spoke once more, "_That _is why I have followed you so intently, Harry Potter."

Harry's eyes snapped open. "Excuse me?"

"You were extremely irritated at the intrusiveness of my questions. For that, I apologise. You are angry and resentful at the life you have had." Harry nodded tersely. "I noticed. Your annoyance made itself known in a sudden appearance of raw magical energy. I have never witnessed such untamed power before in someone so young."

Harry shook his head and sighed deeply. "Once again Harry Potter is abnormal, different than everyone else. My life is a nightmare," he said with awful certainty.

Merlin, ignoring the earlier comment, nodded his head gravely. "In some respects, that it is. However, I am sure there are those who are willing to lessen the burden somewhat, who are willing to help and listen to you. Isn't there?" he asked, the tone of his voice clearly indicating that he was fully expecting an answer.

Harry softly banged his head upon the back of his chair, and as he began to cycle through those who he knew he could rely upon and trust, he realised there were more than he had imagined: although, his relationship with Dumbledore had been damaged, it was far from irreparable; then there was Lupin and Tonks as well, his other school friends like Neville and Luna; his teachers - maybe even Snape included amongst them; other members of the Order of the Phoenix too. The more he thought the more the list grew – he remembered that Ginny had come to mind an hour or so before when considering who he could confide in - but Ron and Hermione were his true pillars of strength, the two people who knew him best, who had suffered more than anyone for just being his friends and still stuck with him. With Hermione, Ron and the rest of the Weasleys behind him – his family – he knew he couldn't falter. It was just...what he wouldn't give to have Sirius still around...and his parents.

Merlin watched patiently beside Kesick's perch as Harry was lost in his thoughts. His eyes were drawn once more to the sight of his silver ring on the young wizard's finger as the crystal began to brighten, to glow and shimmer under a soft white light, the silver band shrinking once more to fit perfectly. Merlin smiled. At the same time, Harry opened his eyes and it was clear he was desperately holding in tears. The old man knew immediately whom the saddened wizard was thinking of. "You miss them Harry," he said. Harry dropped his head into his hands. "Now more than ever."

"Yeah," Harry said, his emotional voice muffled by the fact his head remained in his hands.

Merlin walked forwards and placed his hands on the young man's hunched shoulders. "It is the natural way of things. We always wish that those we love had not died, that they were still with us. We can never ignore the pangs of our hearts. It is such things that make us who we are."

Silence reigned in the cavern for several long moments: Merlin leaned back in his seat, waiting patiently for Harry to rein in his emotions in his own time. Hedwig, obviously seeing her master's troubles floated down and perched herself on one of his hunched shoulders. Eventually the young wizard raised his head. He turned to his faithful owl and softly stroked her white feathers back and forth with his fingertips. He was about to speak before Merlin interrupted him, "I apologise Harry."

Harry immediately became confused. "For what?"

"Let me explain. The ring's power lies within the blue crystal at its heart. In order for the ring to be of any use to you, you have to show that you are worthy. I brought forth your emotions and your feelings towards others in order for the ring itself to gauge your worthiness."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, still deeply confused

"I made the ring in such a way so that only a certain kind of person could use it. I would not have passed it onto you if I were not already sure that you were indeed my true successor, but the crystal at the core of the ring had to interweave itself with you nevertheless.

Harry's mind was still clouded. "I don't understand."

"It is quite simple, Harry. Only one who holds love – and all related emotions – above all else in his being can use the crystal. Love is the most powerful of forces Harry. It controls us like nothing else. Under its power one can reach the greatest of heights and sink to the lowest, most desperate of depths. There is no force stronger or purer than love." Merlin smiled thinly. "You have shown that you are truly righteous at heart."

"So all this was just so that I could prove that I am capable of love?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yes...and no." Merlin replied, eerily reminiscent of a certain Headmaster of Hogwarts Harry suddenly realised. "Love is indeed the central element, but others such as compassion and nobility are also important. It may seem strange to contemplate, and difficult to accept, but even some of the most evil of hearts are capable of love."

"Voldemort isn't." Harry said firmly.

Merlin nodded. "Which is why I have given you my ring, my crystal. Actually," Merlin continued after a moment, "I believe that my questions might have been unnecessary. I was slightly surprised that the ring adjusted to your finger as soon as you put it on. I was not expecting your soul and the core at the heart of the crystal to accept each other so quickly. Compassion, grief, love, righteousness – such things must flow in your veins in greater quantities than I had previously surmised."

Harry's thoughts raced back to Dumbledore's comments the night Sirius died. _'In the end it did not matter that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you'._ What Merlin said about this supposed 'bond' between himself and this ring – all apparently based upon the different elements of love – seemed to underline Dumbledore's thoughts on the matter. Could _the power the dark lord knows not_ simply be love then? If it had shielded him from evil on more than one occasion could he call on it to do so again? Could he use love to defeat Voldemort?

"My mum's love for me is the reason I'm alive." Harry said barely above a whisper. "She sacrificed herself so that I could live. It's supposed to be why I couldn't be harmed by Voldemort's killing curse."

Merlin pondered this for a moment or two. "I do not doubt this. Your mother's actions show that love is the greatest power that one can ever possess or harness. As long as there remain those who are capable of expressing such emotions – and acting upon them in similar ways to your mother – evil simply cannot endure."

Harry nodded his head slowly. He was quickly running through everything the legendary wizard had said to him; one thing confused him. "Merlin, why did you call me your successor when you gave me your ring?"

The old wizard smiled. "Ever since Tom Riddle was thwarted by you nearly 15 years ago, I have waited patiently for the right time to meet you. I decided then that I would one day give you the chance to become my successor. That day has finally arrived.

"Do you remember the legend I spoke of Harry? The one that said that within this cave was an army of men and horses ready to awaken from their slumber if ever the country was in dire need?" Harry nodded. "Well, as I am sure you can guess, it was an exaggeration – that part of the legend was simply referring to myself. However, as my successor, it in fact refers to you now.

"I described you as a gifted student, if sometimes unfocused, yes?" Harry nodded again. "I said that because it is clear that your potential is considerable; if you focus properly and entirely upon solely improving yourself you will become _the_ greatest of our kind – greater than Albus Dumbledore or myself, easily more powerful than Tom Riddle."

Harry had definitely not expected that. More powerful than Merlin!? The old man had clearly gone bonkers, as Ron would say. Obviously his facial expressions had given his thoughts away again when Merlin spoke. "I do not exaggerate Harry. You have already proven yourself to be exceptional numerous times. I know of no one else who was capable of repelling dozens of Dementors with a single Patronus at the age of thirteen – quite frankly that is supposed to be impossible. As such, is it really beyond comprehension that you can become the greatest wizard of the ages?"

Harry finally found his voice. "But...But I'm...I'm not even the top student in school for Christ's sake. Hermione..."

"...Is a most dedicated young witch yes. Merlin interrupted. "Her total commitment to her magical education is extraordinary. That is why she is so successful. However, the natural talent you possess far outstrips her own in much the same way as the speed of a leopard does a snail. If you truly follow your friend's example in commitment then you will achieve wondrous things."

Harry considered Merlin's advice for a moment. "You really think so?" he asked slowly. Merlin nodded. "And this ring will help me, right? It will give me the power to defeat Voldemort?"

"No Harry. In itself, the ring gives its owner nothing. And yet it provides him with everything he needs. Let me explain. My true power lies not in my ability to use a wand, Harry. It is instead in the way I am able to access and utilise the entirety of my magical self. As you know, the level of magical ability fluctuates from wizard to wizard, and most of our kind are nevertheless unable to gain mastery over their entire being anyway. I have however, and others like Albus Dumbledore and Tom Riddle, have become able to do so also. In the fullness of time you would be capable of calling upon the entirety of the raw power within you and bending it to your will. The crystal at the heart of the ring doesn't give you any powers save the power to harness the entirety of your natural abilities much sooner than you would naturally. In your case, believe me when I say that your potential abilities are considerable, greater than any in history."

Harry shook his head. "This is all just too much. Why can't I just be normal for once?" he asked in desperation.

Merlin chuckled softly. "I believe I have already explained that there is no such thing as normal," he said. "However, believe me when I say that I understand a few of your complaints completely. I do not profess to be an expert over the usual complaints and problems of teenagers, but I **do **understand that there are times when power is almost too heavy a burden. I see it before me now; I see you floundering under the extraordinary weight of duty and expectation. I am afraid that this is a burden that you must endure for the rest of your life."

Harry's anger began to simmer again. "Can't the world just leave me alone in peace for once in my life?"

"Ah, yes, the typical gripe of a typical teenager." Merlin said with a smile. "You feel the whole world is against you, don't you?"

"You're damn right I do!" Harry hissed.

Merlin's smile turned into snort. "Yes, you are indeed just like any other teenager. At times, it is quite easy to forget that you are only sixteen years old."

"Yeah, a sixteen year old charged with saving the whole fucking world!" Harry roared.

"I WILL NOTsuffer such language in my presence young wizard!" Merlin warned, effortlessly disarming Harry of his increasing anger. Once Harry had taken a few calming breaths the old man spoke again. "You have been through much in your short life Harry, so much that you have been forced to mature at a rapid rate, but nevertheless you are still young, and there are times when you are still immature. I apologise if what I say displeases you, but I simply will not tolerate you talking to me like that. I have asked you here in order to assist you in your fight against Tom Riddle and, as such, it would do well for you to remember that before you lose your temper with me."

"I am sorry." Harry muttered, his head bowed.

Merlin nodded. "Apology accepted. You have every right to be angry at some of the things you have gone through, but that does not give you the right to lash out irrationally at those undeserving of such treatment. Remember, anger is a powerful emotion – an extremely intoxicating and alluring state of mind for those who seek the quick and easy path to power." Merlin paused for several seconds, giving Harry time to understand his comments. "Tell me, how many times have your seen your Headmaster angry?"

Harry thought for a moment or two. "Almost never," he conceded. "Only once I think. He was scary. But then, when I saw him duel with Riddle, he was so calm, almost emotionless."

Merlin nodded. "Exactly. I am positive that Albus Dumbledore discovered at an early age – as I did – that although anger and hate can be used to dramatically increase the power of one's spells and curses, positive emotions can have an infinitely more dramatic effect. You must learn to control and dispel your anger Harry. It will take time, but it is imperative that you do so."

"Will this ring help me to do that?" Harry asked, stroking the silver band around his finger with his thumb.

"In a way." Merlin responded. "If you become excessively angry or hateful the ring will expand in size like it did several minutes ago, and it would eventually fall off your finger. Therefore, if you don't want to lose it, I would recommend keeping your temper in check."

Harry nodded. "I understand, and I will try, but it will be difficult."

"Good." Merlin said. "Hate is a dangerous sentiment, and the last thing I want is for you to fall into the same black hole that Tom Riddle now finds himself in. Ultimately, the best piece of advice I can give you is to be patient Harry. You have shown that you are an extremely capable young man. The task ahead of you is most difficult, and even after you succeed in destroying Riddle, you will still be called upon to suffer the weight of other burdens. Young Albus Dumbledore will know well of what I speak as he has carried these same burdens for far too long. I understand that you may not be on the best of terms with him at the moment but this will pass. He can help you, and is ready and willing to do so. As for myself, there is little else I can do for you. I have given you my gift. Use it well."

"Is this goodbye then?" Harry asked slowly.

"It is Harry," Merlin answered. "It has been a great honour to finally meet you, but it is late and an old man needs his rest."

Harry paused for a moment. "Will we meet again?" he asked.

Merlin shook his head. "No. My time is short, but fear not, I am confident I shall leave this world in the peace I wish for it to forever remain. As for you young wizard I believe you need some slumber before your morning run with the lovely Miss Tonks." He finished with a wicked smile.

Harry glared a little. "It isn't like that and I told you not to get personal," he warned.

Merlin chuckled. "Yes, yes. Kesick is willing to take you and Hedwig back to Privet Drive, but I do not believe you will remain there much longer this summer." Harry made to say something but was cut off. "I am tired Harry. Enjoy your birthday. Today, that is all I ask of you. The Prophecy does not exist for the next twenty-four hours. Understand?"

Harry nodded his head. "I still can't believe this is all happening." I suppose all I can say is that it has been an honour to meet you." And he held out it his hand, which was warmly taken.

"The honour lies with me my dear boy." Merlin responded. "To have met someone so young who has suffered and survived so much and still be as you are... It is humbling. You are strong. You will prevail. Live long Harry. Lord knows, you deserve it. Now go."

Kesick gracefully positioned himself above Harry's head, who held out his left arm to welcome Hedwig into his grasp. Before he grabbed onto the offered tail feather he looked once more into the bright blue eyes of the legend before him. All he could say was "Thank you."

And as the comforting, loving tendrils of Phoenix flame surrounded him, Harry could have sworn that at that moment the twinkle in the eyes of the old man suddenly looked awfully familiar - the nagging thought continually in the tiny backwaters of his mind that Merlin was being untruthful come to the fore once more - but he brushed the thought away as a trick of his tired eyes and mind. He'd had several surprises too many for one night, and this one, he knew without even thinking, had to remain secret to absolutely anyone and everyone. No one would believe him anyway! Now wasn't the time to consider the far-reaching implications of what had occurred tonight however; he desperately needed some sleep.


	5. WITH PORTRAITS

...**WITH PORTRAITS**

(Summary: The last of the dialogues of the summer before Harry's sixth year, but this one does not include our favourite boy-wizard. A most revealing little end to our little story.)

An old man stood alone in the sudden silence of a darkened cave. He reached into his robes and brought out a very peculiar, very familiar watch. He was able to read it though and determined that the hour was late indeed. He reached into another pocket and grasped onto on old thimble. With one word, "Activate," he vanished from view and re-appeared in front of a large desk cluttered with broken and twisted pieces of metal.

He closed his eyes for just a moment to allow himself a little time to readjust to the sudden brightness of the light and as he did so a voice from behind spoke. "Ah you finally return."

The old man reopened his eyes and turned to face the source of the voice. Upon the circular walls surrounding him were the many faces of all those who had held one of the most prestigious positions that a witch or wizard could ever hope to achieve, a position that this old man was very proud of, a position he was willing to do almost anything to preserve for future generations, even to the extent of lying to the one person its future depended upon.

"Indeed I am Phineas," this man responded to the portrait that had spoken with a tired, heavy sigh. Taking off his glasses, he tapped his wand gently on their rim and they immediately transformed into a very distinct half-moon shape.

"Am I right to assume that the gullible young fool bought your little ruse?" the portrait asked slyly. All he got was a short, resigned nod of the head in response. "Lying for a prolonged period of time can be incredibly draining, can't it?" the portrait continued, drawling smugly from within its frame. "Perhaps you should ask Severus Snape how to do it properly for so long a period of time. He is, after all, an expert at it."

"That's enough Phineas!" the old man responded sternly. "Sometimes what is distasteful must be done, regardless of personal feelings," he explained as he rubbed his forehead softly, a forehead which was quickly, quietly changing shape.

"Hear! Hear!" exclaimed several other portraits, clearly in agreement, but just as the worried and tired face of the current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry took full form a strong female voice voiced her opinion from somewhere over his left shoulder.

"But to lie to the poor boy in such an elaborate and cruel way Albus. He thinks he's just met the greatest wizard of all time! If he ever finds out that it was all a ruse and that it was only you in disguise, he'll never forgive you!"

Albus Dumbledore bowed his head and fell wearily into his chair behind his desk. "I know Dilys, but I am willing to risk it. I feel..."

But whatever he felt had to wait a moment because in a flash of flame a Phoenix made its appearance in the room and landed swiftly on its perch. Without a word spoken Dumbledore flicked his wand in the Phoenix's direction, which immediately reverted very slightly into its proper form.

"I trust Harry and Hedwig arrived home safely Fawkes?" Dumbledore got a short shrill of Phoenix song in response. "Good," he said replacing his wand into one of the many folds in his robes.

"As I was about to say Dilys," he resumed, turning once more to the portrait of the former Headmistress Dilys Derwent, "I feel I must do anything I can to ensure that Harry is to survive his final encounter with Tom. At the moment, barring divine intervention there is no way that a sixteen year-old wizard – no matter how powerful or fortuitous – can outlast Tom Riddle in a duel. He has fifty more years of magical knowledge and understanding in his favour and has used his wand to kill dozens of times. We need...sorry, _Harry_ needs all the advantages he can muster because I fear he will not have too long to prepare himself to face his burden."

"What did you – sorry _Merlin_ - say to him?" another voice piped up.

Dumbledore turned to his right. "What needed to be said Armando," he told his immediate predecessor. "Harry was told that if he focuses he will quickly become an extremely formidable wizard, one who could quite easily defeat Tom when the time comes to face him one last time. I told him that he will become the greatest wizard of all time."

All the portraits fell silent. Except one. "Ah, of course!" Phineas Nigellus exclaimed sarcastically, "If in doubt, lie and massage the brat's already over-inflated ego and all shall be fine."

"For your information, Phineas," Dumbledore interrupted before the portrait could rant any longer, "I did not lie. In the fullness of time Harry would have become an extraordinary wizard. I doubt that even Merlin could have driven away over 100 dementors at the tender age of 13. I myself am confident I could not have achieved that particular feat until the year I passed my NEWTS." Dumbledore paused, and then spoke while his eyes wandered over each portrait in turn. "You all saw that he didn't just use his hands to destroy this office over a month ago! I doubt that any of you have seen such a display of raw, uncontrolled wandless magic before. Unfortunately, Harry does not have the luxury of progressing naturally and discovering and harnessing his power at his own pace."

"So you actually gave him the ring?" Phineas asked incredulously.

"I did."

"A worthless ring that does absolutely _nothing_?"

"It does not do _nothing_, Phineas. I enchanted it to reflect Harry's mood. If he becomes excessively angry or hateful the ring will start to expand and would eventually slip off of his finger. I don't want him using such emotions to fuel his spells. I don't want to risk him following the path that Tom Riddle took, as indeed I have just explained to him in person. Beyond it being an emotion detector as it were, the ring is nothing but a silver band with a blue pendant. I told Harry that it would act as a focus for his magic however; much like a wand, except only better."

All of the portraits gasped. "So you really did do what you said you would! Are you sure that was wise?" asked a red-nosed corpulent portrait. "It normally takes years for even the most powerful of wizards to master the simplest of spells without a wand."

"I am aware of that fact Fortescue." Dumbledore responded. "However, later today Harry will be removed from the Dursleys' care for the final time. By next summer he must be capable of defending himself against the most powerful of opponents, which will mean he will no longer require such protection as he is currently under. I will have a discussion with him later today. In fact, I think it would be best if I let him enjoy his birthday and talk with him on this matter later in the week. During our talk I will inform him of my plan of action. Under my pupillage, I am confident that Harry will master his innate wandless abilities in a matter of weeks. Perhaps sixth months if he has any difficulties. Anything I ask or demand of him, I am sure that he can do. He truly is that special.

"It is time for Harry to assume now the mantle which would have been his in time anyway, Prophecy or not," he continued. "I must believe that Harry can do what is demanded of him, and more importantly, he must believe it too. Being told by Merlin himself of the true power he possesses will hopefully have the desired effect and give him the self-confidence he needs to defeat Tom. One day I might tell him of how I tricked him tonight, but that day will not come until he is powerful enough, and mature enough, to accept it."

He rose tiredly and gingerly from his seat. "Now, it is late and I am dearly in need of rest. Goodnight everyone."

Dumbledore turned around amidst the tired and disgruntled voices of the portraits wishing him goodnight. He trudged wearily into his private chambers. Although he had presented his arguments clearly and confidently to the assembled former Headmasters and Headmistresses, he ultimately agreed with their concerns. He was deeply worried that the actions he had taken over the last few hours could lead to drastic, dire consequences. If Harry discovered too soon the truth of the night's events... well he shuddered just thinking about it. Before he climbed into bed though another portrait spoke, this time one that hung by itself on the walls of the bedchamber, a portrait that no on knew existed save the current Headmaster himself.

"Do not fret young wizard," it said, "when the time is ripe you shall bring Harry here and we shall tell him together of the plan I insisted you implement. After all, not everything you said while posing as myself was a lie was it?"

"No it wasn't Merlin," Dumbledore answered, "but could you please stop calling me young, I am 150 years old!"

"I believe I was twice that age when I died... _Albus Dumbledore,_" the portrait of the legend said with a smirk. "Anyway, the hurt of you lying to him in such a manner will be lessened if I talk to him too."

"I am still unsure that the course of action I've just taken was the right one. But can we please talk more about this another time; I really do need some sleep."

"Of course. Goodnight... _young wizard_."

Dumbledore grumbled unhappily and shook his head. Later today he would personally escort Harry from Privet Drive to The Burrow, where preparations for his birthday party were complete. Today was going to be a celebration; all the troubles ahead could wait until tomorrow. When sleep finally came, it was sorely needed.

THE END


End file.
